Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (23 page)

Session

JP: Bipolar disorder can be linked with sharpened and unusually creative thinking. The link between bipolar disorder and creativity is widely accepted as fact. When psychologists measure the creativity of those who suffer from bipolar disorder, they are apt to find levels of creative genius that are extremely rare among the general population. Many famous poets, writers, composers and artists were afflicted with bipolar disorder. I’d say there’s some creativity involved in this entry.

DT: Yeah, it’s become one of my favorites. I think it illustrates the madness of mania perfectly through symbolic use of format, punctuation, grammar and language, imperfect yet seemingly logical. I’m not going to lie; I impress the shit out of myself sometimes.

JP: And we can check off self-confidence from the list of personality characteristics as well.

KEY TERMS:
HIDE-AND-SEEK, HATERS, HECKLER, MISSING PERSON

Submitted on 8/31/10

Yellow

As a kid, I prided myself on my ability to dominate at hide-and-go-seek. I was always a little quicker than everyone else, which played huge in my seeking skills, and my slender and agile body type (some may know it as chicken legs syndrome) allowed for great hides. My aunt nearly reported me as a missing person during one game; yeah, I was that good. I decided to try a little hide-and-seek game with my mania, through which I’ve learned you can’t hide from fate, especially when it’s Jay Cutler--remember, my archnemesis?

As some of you may recall, I’ve had my run-ins with Jay in the past, and we’ve had our differences. Well, I hadn’t put much thought to old Jay lately due to moving back home (and then out to the country), trying to find insurance (finally did, thank you very little), and trying to figure out my next steps (I struck out on my Blue Jackets internship [haters] so on to the next). But that all changed this past Sunday.

As is common knowledge, all Sundays immediately follow Saturday nights, so my story begins (with a coincidence I just noticed, weird) at the ballpark with the Reds versus the Chicago Chubs this past Saturday. This was my first experience in the Diamond seats; all you can eat and drink, real nice place. I almost made it fifteen feet into the door before heckling a Chubs fan (her quick-witted rebuttal to my heckling was, “Ooohhh whatever!” . . . point, Derek) and then settled nicely into a few beers. The rest of the night was filled with reminiscing and then forgetting what I was reminiscing about. Oh, what sweet almost-memories. The next day, I woke up and found that a cat had shit in my mouth--not literally, but it tasted a lot like it. Please don’t ask me how I know that.

Since I’m now living out in the sticks with Stubby, I had to hightail it home in time to watch (or sleep through) the Reds game. I think I’m going to enjoy living out in the sticks for a while. I mean, nothing else has worked, so why not try this? I’ve got a lot more space out here, and it’s peaceful, probably two things that couldn’t hurt me right about meow. I’m having some childhood memories come back to me, from G’ma’s raspberry pies to trying not to lose a finger in the planter with G’pa. I think this place is a good stepping stone to whatever may lie next for me. The only issue is, we are so far out in the boondocks that I haven’t found Internet service yet. This means I have to come to Browntown to jump online, which is not exactly convenient.

So without the World Wide Web (still don’t know why people don’t use that term more often, it’s kind of fun to say) it was a little difficult to draft my fantasy football team. My team name is Cap’n Geech, but Shrimp Shack Shooters wouldn’t fit; close enough. Luckily, the worldwide leader in sports also has auto draft, so I let fate run its course. But please let the record show that I moved away from Chicago and let Jay have the town without a fight. That’s just the type of guy I am. I packed up and moved out to South Solon (my road doesn’t even have lines, for God’s sake) to get away from it all and find myself.

What does fate do to me after my attempts to play nice? It goes ahead and drafts Jay Cutler as my fantasy football quarterback. What a bitch.

Session

DT: . . . ninety-eight, ninety-nine, 100. Ready or not, here I come!

JP: I told you at one I wasn’t playing.

DT: I’d be scared too if I was you, I would dominate you in some hide-and-go-seek, JP!

JP: Safe! I just touched base.

DT: Very clever, old man. One, two, three . . .

KEY TERMS:
DEMIGODS, SPANKY, CLUB PSYCH WARD, FAITH

Submitted on 9/16/10

Yellow

“
Feelings of oneness with the entire universe. Visions and images of distant times and places. Sensations of vibrant currents of energy coursing through the body, accompanied by spasms of violent trembling. Visions of deities, demigods, and demons. Vivid flashes of light and rainbow colors. Fears of impending insanity, even death” (Grof, 1989,
Spiritual Emergency
).

This is the opening paragraph to a book I read last summer (don’t act like you’re not impressed). I suppose I was searching for an explanation of what BMD was, and that was the closest thing I could find. I had just quit my second job in as many years due to my mania, and I was completely confused. I just wanted to know what this was.

I spent hours online googling and reading any site I could on the subject of BMD (maybe Redtube sneaked in there every once in a while). Random, but I also wasted like an hour watching some dude on MySpace named Bipolar Man; wacky stuff. All of the medical sites were too general to even attempt to be helpful, and too sugarcoated for my liking. Their definitions and lists of symptoms for BMD sounded very similar to a veterinarian’s description of a kitten’s behavior to me.

I was frustrated because I couldn’t tell whether what I experienced was so rare that no information existed, or people weren’t being honest. The more I get involved with BMD in all its facets, the more I’m beginning to believe that I’m not out of the ordinary, that there are others out there who have experienced similar episodes, but for some reason either
aren’t talking or aren’t being heard. I’m beginning to think that the reality of BMD is hidden away by the gatekeepers for their benefit. It’s difficult to talk about one’s weaknesses and troubles, especially when they involve mental health issues, but I can’t buy that as an excuse.

During my last getaway at Club Psych Ward (Southside!) I met a mother and daughter who truly inspired me. The daughter was in the unit with me and was fighting her own battles and demons, yet when she spoke of her mother, there was something that lifted her. During groups, she told stories about the troubles her family and especially her mother had been faced with, daily challenges that I have difficulty comprehending. You’d think they’d be broken, without hope. But I met her mother the day I was released, and I’ll never forget the few minutes we shared.

She had just been released from the hospital that day after battling an illness, yet she was still there for her daughter. She struggled to stand up as we were introduced, due to having only one arm and one leg. She smiled at me and we chatted for a few minutes. I was astounded at her will and strength and overcome by her outlook in life. These two women who have every reason in the world to hide from the truth and abandon hope are actually lifting me up. As we said our goodbyes, the mother said something I keep with me to this day:

“
Keep faith.”

TBC . . .

Session

JP: Where faith fits in with bipolar disorder is a subject of high interest for me. Many people who are not Christians still believe that they are “good people” and will tell you that they “have faith.” To them, it has nothing to do with traditional Christian beliefs, miracle cures, or a Supreme Being. They may say something like, “I just have faith that everything will turn out all right.” This is more of a “positive attitude” type of faith and, Christian or not, a positive attitude is very helpful for someone who has bipolar disorder. At the very least, it will help them in their battle against depression. It will also be helpful in managing their bipolar disorder in general.

DT: Couldn’t agree with you more, JP. Look at you, on point today and makin’ shit happen!

KEY TERMS:
BOWL CUT, FIVE, DIARRHEA, TRUST

Submitted on 9/27/10

Yellow

High top

Mullet

Z’s on the side

Shirtless

Osh Gosh B’Gosh Bibs

Cowboy Boots

If you got halfway down this list and instantly pictured me as a young boy, I am more than a little concerned (aside from you, of course, Mom). But that is exactly the look I used to rock back in the eighties. Dead sexy, I know. Over the years, my hairstyle decisions didn’t get much better. Being the grass fairy I was, I had the bowl cut get slipped in somewhere in the early nineties, and it persisted into high school. I would make tiny alterations to my bowl, which included shaving underneath and putting my number shaved in the back (can’t believe I had my V-Card into my late teens).

My number growing up was five, and I had no idea why I chose that number until now. I think it was an omen of some kind to tell my future self (present-day me) that the fifth doctor I see will be the last. It’s a stretch but does give me some hope.

Since I was able to find insurance, I’ve been on the hunt for a new doc. The UC doc (El Doc) was great but doesn’t have a private practice, so it was back to the hunt. I’ll admit that I’m not the most cooperative patient due to trust issues I’ve had so far with my docs. The first doc I was sent to in Colorado after I was released from Club Psych Ward Porter Hospital was easy to find. This was probably due to the fact that the doc’s office was in the Kaiser Permanente building in Denver. Wait a tick, Kaiser Permanente was my insurance company at AT&Tizzle (yeah, I don’t see a possible conflict of interest or anything).

I will also say the next couple of docs were real pieces of work. My first and last appointment with one doc involved the following closing arguments from yours truly:

“
YOU CAN TAKE YOUR RESEARCH AND THROW IT OUT THE FUCKIN’ WINDOW BECAUSE WHEN I’M MANIC THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS IS GETTING BACK!”

I do like my new doc, but there is one little annoyance--OK, two: she calls BMD my illness, not a fan of that; and she wants me to take another medicine to help level me out. I told her I’d do the research on it and let her know, but I highly doubt I’ll add anything. I feel my lithium is working and my side effects are nearly gone, save the occasional instance when I’m sliding into third and feel a little turd, diarrhea (that reminds me, the Redlegs’ magic number is one; got my playoff tickets, look for me to rebut Colin Cowherd’s ridiculous Reds rants of regularity--alliteration is fun).

This is the fifth doc I’ve seen. If I stick with her, that would make the soccer-number-shaved-in-my-head prophecy come true, but it’s difficult to trust someone who wants to medicate you more after spending only twenty minutes with you. All I hear about is trying to level me out. What’s good about that? This BMD is all over the place, and being numbed into a level at which someone
else
feels comfortable is not living. I’m not going to do it again.

Session

JP: What research was the doctor referring to that got you so fired up?

DT: Well, it was an outpatient rehab program, and this was my initial meeting, which was arranged through the State due to my lack of insurance and apparently poor evaluation. He was describing some study about how substance abuse has been found in research to lead to mania or mania-like symptoms. It was at the point where the culmination of all the frustrations I had been dealing with after my second episode blew up, and I lost it.

JP: It happens to the best of us.

KEY TERMS:
DICTATE ME, .15 PERCENT, LIGHTNING BOLT, DEFINE ME

Submitted on 6/3/11

Yellow

I never wanted BMD to define me, to dictate what moves I may take in life, or to change me. I think for that reason, I refused to read or research anything about BMD the first eight months or so after episode uno and my official bipolar disorder type I diagnosis. I suppose at the time I figured if I didn’t know anything about BMD and its effects on its sufferers, then I couldn’t change, and therefore BMD wouldn’t be able to dictate my life or define me. A feeble attempt to try and stop the inevitable, I suppose.