Neurotic

It has not escaped my attention...in fact, I noticed a long time ago...that the 'friend' I have been corresponding with has stopped asking me questions, nor is he prompting me for discussion.  Why is this?  Is he so self-absorbed that he is only interested in his comments...his life?  Or is it a strategy to slowly end our conversation? And if so, what do I do about it?

Are all bipolars neurotic?  I don't know.  I sure am.  I can see how a history of social stress can make you so.  My history of social blunders and super sensitivity cause me to be extra cautious and ...well, neurotic.  Which leads me back to what I do about it.  I can expose my neurosis and inform him of my observation.  I can stop emailing entirely and see what happens.  Or, I can continue to email as usual and feel a little hurt each time I receive his self-centered reply.

What do yo recommend?

Inappropriate Relationships

I am corresponding with a man whom I knew 32 years ago. He was a kid, 19. I was 25. Looking back on it now, I was probably using him. I have had to confess that to him now and I am ashamed. At 25, I was just beginning to manifest full blown bipolar behavior. I'm not sure what it is about bipolar behavior that causes us to have inappropriate relationships...to use people. Is it because we are impulsive when we are manic? Is it the sex drive? Is it being needy when we are depressed? All I know is we often do not take the time to think things through. For me, my boundaries were blurred. Impulsive acts of intimacy were common in my youth. Today, I am relatively stable...and alone. Have I played all my cards? Burned all my bridges? Ruined one too many relationships?

The man has been wondering what happened 32 years ago. I have had to tell him. What I thought was going to be a new friendship may simply be a healing...a coming to terms with impulsive behavior...my payback. Being bipolar has its costs. The pain of inappropriate relationships is one.

Who is the Real Me?

I remember sitting with a priest shortly after I was diagnosed and put on lithium. As tears dripped down my cheeks, I asked her, “who is the real me? Am I me covered up with moods that will finally be removed? Or will the real me be silenced by the lithium? Where is my soul in all of this, my spirit?” As I recall, she had nothing of consequence to say…so few people are equipped to handle such questions. But the questions persist.

I’ve had friends suggest that I not take the medications so as to not interfere with my soul’s work. There are counselors and therapists who believe depression is useful. But at the time I had no choice…I was drowning. My children were not being well taken care of. My professional life was littered with inappropriate relationships, broken promises, and incomplete projects. And I was very, very sick.

Julian of Norwich said, "It is a lofty understanding inwardly to see and to know that God, who is our maker, dwells in our soul, and it is a still loftier and greater understanding inwardly to see and to know that our soul, which is created, dwells in God's substance. From this substance we are what we are, by God." I believe that that which stands rooted in God is not uprooted by medication. My soul work has simply changed.

Relationships and Other Disasters

Looking back I would say that I have made some very poor choices in relationships. Irrational passion often led me into inappropriate situations…particularly at work. In the common vernacular, I behaved badly. Unfortunately, those tempestuous affairs were all I knew of love.

There was the relationship where I married the dream. He wanted what I wanted…land and a farm. We were going to raise hemlocks and herbs. His aspirations were all right. His character was not. Two children later, he left.

Then there was the married college professor where I was the dream. I didn’t have the strength of character to say no…at least not for four years.

Then there was the bad boy in high school whom I adored. Even in my dreams today he has the power to slam me down with rejection.

Now, in the days of relative stability, I am unsure of what I am doing. Without the raging emotions driving me into relationship, I am left with logic and reason. Where’s the spark? Has my ‘sparker’ been medicated into submission? I’m just wondering if I will ever again feel that giddy flip flop of infatuation…or if I even want to. I’m overly cautious now. I don’t trust the assertions of others…particularly those men who know I’m bipolar and who believe all bipolar women are ‘over-sexed.’ So I pray for guidance and trust that in time I will know when I am safe and loved and willing to risk and give again.

Aftermath

All is well but now I fall. I've been up and down for days depending on circumstances. At this moment, I just feel spent, worn out from the turmoil. I could try to nap but I won't sleep. My mind will spin around thoughts and images and desires related to the past few days.

This too shall pass...but right now I need relief of some sort. I'm trying to paint but the process moves too slow. I've done laundry and dishes and that is good. I suppose I could benefit from a little structure...lists and requests. I try to write but nothing brilliant comes.

Tomorrow will be a better day...

I'm unstable

I've gone manic over a new friendship. I await emails and phone calls as if I have an addiction. If I don't get a grip, I am going to ruin everything. What do I do?

First of all, break the cycle of obsession. What else can I focus on? painting, writing, dishes, laundry,... I may go at them in a manic manner but they are safe, acceptable activities.

Then, make sure I'm getting enough rest and sleep. Mania disturbs sleep which exacerbates mania.

Contract emotionally. After child birth, if the uterus does not contract, the mother could bleed to death. After a great emotional upheaval, if I don't contract (regroup, center,...) I could bleed to death emotionally.

Find something else to focus on, something that feeds me emotionally because disappointment could be devastating.

I hate to have such a defeatist attitude but this is life we're talking about.

I fear Mania

Mania gets you into trouble and hurts people. True, some of my most productive efforts were while I was hypo-manic...I painted better, I wrote better, I was a more social person... but the pain, suffering, and depression that came after were often excruciating. Therefore, I am very wary of any activity that feels remotely driven by mania…shopping that gets out of control, relationships based primarily on physical attraction, new crafts or projects requiring the purchase of new equipment or materials, or jobs requiring a whole new wardrobe. Henry David Thoreau said to beware of all enterprises requiring new clothes.

I wonder…does my fear limit my enjoyment of the moment? Somewhat. Will I ever get over this fear? Perhaps. But for now, I think I would rather be safe than sorry. I am recalling the debt, clutter, and stress. This is one area where a good friend or therapist is invaluable. She can pass judgment from the outside and advise me on whether I am being reasonable or not. Am I being grandiose or is this book idea feasible? Is this extreme religiosity or is God answering my prayer? Are these nine suits a good investment or should I reconsider this job opportunity? I look forward to the time when I can make better judgments from the inside and not live in fear.

Guilt

Where do I begin? I was not a good mother. If it were not for the day care workers and grandparents my children would have had no 'rearing,' as they say. Breakfast was fast food in the car seat as I drove recklessly to the daycare then on to work. I often left the children in their pajamas with a bag of clothes for the day. Thankfully, I had a good salary. However, rather than prepare nice meals, I made macaroni and cheese out of a box. I made up the difference with expensive toys and books.

The worst part was the anger and withdrawal...just wanting to be left alone to paint or write or work in the darkroom. The children were understandably shaken by this. It breaks my heart to think of those sweet children, frightened and alone. I was incorrectly diagnosed then and, therefore, not properly medicated. Prozac is not for bipolar people.

The children are fine now. I was fortunate to have health insurance to pay for therapy for them in their teen years. As young adults, one has struggled with mood issues of his own but they both are brilliant young adults, have jobs and social lives, and don't seem to be too angry with me. They see the difference now that I am properly medicated and understand.

So what do I do with the guilt? I write about it. I write about the bipolar disorder. I live medicated and stable and, hopefully, demonstrate a life well-managed. And I try to be kind.

Easter Crass

Totally unrelated to the meaning of Easter, I love to partake of the celebration of Easter as if it were the first official day of Spring. This year I purchased a statue of a rabbit standing upright, holding a bunch of carrots behind his back. Around him I spread bright green grass. In the wee hours this morning, I arranged brightly colored eggs and foil-wrapped chocolate 'carrots.' My children still love to see what the Easter Bunny brought.

Then there's the clothes. Regardless of whether I go to church, I still feel the need to have a new outfit for Easter. This year it's a black and white dress complete with black and white, wide-brimmed hat. I am decked out.

I'd have gone to church if I didn't have to work today. And, yes, I'm wearing the hat to work. But something's bothering me. As much fun as all of this is, I feel the lack of a spiritual celebration. I've never done the stations of the cross...I don't even know what it is. But I think I would have gotten a lot more out of Easter had I participated.

Jesus Christ is risen today...

Forgiveness or not

Should we feel compelled to forgive the bad behavior of a friend or family member if it is symptomatic of bipolar disorder? That's tough. If the behavior is brought on by drugs or alcohol, we are advised to use tough love. But what if mental illness is involved?

An acquaintance of mine is witnessing her bipolar husband's infidelity and apparent porn addiction. When he is depressed, he doesn't get out of the bed. Bills are piling up and he doesn't work. She's wondering whether it is wrong to be resentful.

My question is...is he on meds? If he is, and he is taking them religiously, and the doctor thinks it is the best he can do, well then you have to be looking at your vows. But if he could be taking meds but isn't, I believe it is time for tough love. I would not be resentful...I'd be serving him an ultimatum.