See my new blog at www.empowher.com starting in January, 2009

Hi:

I'm going to be the bipolar illness blogger at www.empowher.com, a women's health website. You can catch my twice-a-week blog there.

The Other Man and The Other Woman

There’s another man in my life. And another woman."Two lovers?" you say. "A man AND a woman?"Let me explain. I’m not unfaithful to my husband, nor am I bisexual. And no, I do not engage in menage a tois sessions.My other man and other woman are my psychiatrist and my psychologist.Since 1997, I’ve been seeing a sweet guy named Jeffrey. He prescribes my medication for bipolar illness, and he monitors the lithium level in my blood.And since 2005, I’ve been visiting an adorable woman named Suzanne. She carries on an ongoing conversation in my life for how to promote psychological health.This man and woman are invaluable. They bear a striking resemblance to "the other man" and "the other woman." "How?" you ask.

I can call them in the middle of the night, and they'll listen to me. These two are emotionally available to me, as lovers would be. If I says it’s an emergency, I can interrupt these people’s good night’s sleep. They care about my welfare. Granted, I’m paying them to watch over me, but they are there for me whenever I need them. (Incidentally, I don’t make a habit of bothering these two at night.)

They want me to dress nicely and wear make-up at all times. Looking nice is one of the indicators of good mental health. If you walk around with uncombed hair and no make-up and yesterday’s outfit, people might judge you to be mentally unstable. My health care professionals want me to look my best, to look pretty, as lovers would. But they don’t want me to look good for their benefit, only for mine.

We've shared our tears and our laughter together. I’ve formed strong bonds with my health care workers. I not only tell them my problems; they sometimes share theirs. They seem to want me to know that everyone has problems. We commiserate together, as lovers would.

I tell secrets to them that I don't tell my husband.I tell my health care workers secrets, as I would to lovers. My husband’s life and behavior is often dissected and hashed out by us. They often know news of my mental health before my husband does.

I can lie down when I'm with them.Yes, my health care workers have couches. If I wish, I may recline, as lovers would. But, of course, there’s no hanky panky going on. Only deep analysis of my bipolar condition.

We meet at the same time in the same place--alone together again. Yes, we have "clandestine" meetings. I see Jeff, my psychiatrist, four times a year, in his office. We meet together, all alone, as lovers would. I see Suzanne once every three weeks. We always leave our clothes on.

I couldn't have had my child without them. This sounds funny, but I needed letters from both of them to adopt my child. They vouched for my stability and the remission of my bipolar illness. When we got my son, they were the first two to receive cigars.

I seek guidance from them. Like I would from lovers, I seek direction from my health care workers. They help me make important choices in my life. From where I chose to live to whether or not to have another child, these two guide me, as lovers would.

I tell them every little thing. As I would with lovers, I share my life with them. We’re intimate in every way except... They are my confidants. They watch over me.Ultimately, as lovers would, these two take care of me. Even though they receive my money as payment for their services, I love them like family members.

I have another man AND another woman. How do I juggle these "affairs?"No, it’s not like that. They make my life easier, happier and healthier.And the good thing is they coexist peacefully with my husband. My husband even approves of these two people. He knows they make our family run smoothly.I have another man and another woman.And my husband doesn’t want to divorce me.Can you say that?

(SIDEBAR)What I don’t have with my other man and woman that those carrying on affairs would have with theirs:e GuiltHey, I’m not cheating on my husband.

SexAgain, we’re not playing around at our sessions. We’re working on my mental health.

That zany feeling that comes with being "in love."I have no warm, fuzzy, lovey-dovey feelings for my man and woman.

WorryIf someone sees us together in public, I have no fear. We’re not doing anything wrong.

Unexplainable body marks such as hickeys or rope burnsOf course, we don’t tie each other up, nor do we suck on each other.

Perfume and Cologne Odor on my ClothesThere’s no strange odors on my bod. I have no need to shower after I see them.

A love childYou get the message

Hello. It's been a while. Please enjoy "Mourning Period."

Let’s face it. Being diagnosed bipolar can be a huge trauma. The diagnosis often comes with hospitalization. And, with the diagnosis usually comes medication. As the medication begins to work, you begin to go through subtle changes, changes that may save your life, but changes that cause the "old you" to disappear.
The old you is gone. You are now a labeled, medicated version of yourself. And you’re much less proud. Bipolar illness is quite humbling.
How does the body deal with the loss of the old self?
Let’s face it. Most of us go through a mourning period after we’re diagnosed.
I got very sad after I was diagnosed. It seemed as though the new me was more than I could handle. I now had a major mental illness and took lots of pills every day.
It’s simple. I was in mourning.
This period of mourning lasted a few months. It was the body getting used to the new me.
Thank goodness, after the mourning period, I noticed that acceptance of my illness began to seep in.
If you’re recently diagnosed, and you notice that you’re very sad, not necessarily depressed, just sad, you may be in a period of mourning.
There are things that can help you through this. Some ideas are below:
Be easy on yourself. You’re in a period of transition.
Talk to your friends about what’s going on in your life. Take comfort in their kind condolences.
Keep a diary of your feelings.
Go swimming early in the morning. Dive into an icy cold pool. Swim 20 laps.
When you’re grocery shopping, treat yourself to a bakery brownie.
Don’t wear black; wear hot pink.
Don’t go out of the house without make-up; you’ll feel better.
Lean on your significant other.
Don’t hang up on the charity that phones you for money.
If you’re weepy, wear sunglasses.
Take a long bike ride or a long walk. Breathe in the fresh air.
If you don’t have one, invest in a cat.
Take a short retreat at a neighborhood hotel. Check in alone or with someone you love. Luxuriate in the hotel bed; watch as much t.v. as you want; swim in the hotel pool. Eat crackers and cheese. Drink lemonade.
Invest in a facial. Pamper yourself.
Plant marigolds in Styrofoam cups like you did when you were in kindergarten; watch them grow.
Invest in some music from around the world. Dance to the exotic beats.
Go to church, any church. Pray to your higher power for strength. Offer your suffering up to the higher power. Seek acceptance of the new you.
Throw away clothes you never liked.
Open up a bank account at a new bank. Call it "vacation fund." Deposit $25.00.
Be nice to someone less fortunate than yourself. Go out of your way for them.
Investigate a European cruise. Put $20.00 into your vacation fund.
Take Spanish. At least the new you will also be bilingual.
Tell a stranger on the bus why you’re in mourning.
Send yourself flowers to commemorate the old you. Make it a big, splashy spray. Write out one of those little cards to say "You will be missed..."
If you have a fireplace, make a fire.
Go to a bipolar support group. Learn that it could be worse.
Take a two-hour bubble bath.
Get lost in a wonderful memory. Remember the time you were in Mexico in an open-air hut with a real monkey climbing around in the rafters. Remember how blue the water was. Remember the mild sunburn you got. The cream as it went on your hot, dry skin.
Drink a toast to yourself with some bubbly cider. Use a real crystal glass.
Go shopping. Buy one new outfit. If you can’t afford new clothes, take in the sights and sounds of the mall. Get yourself a fountain drink.
Get lost in a wish. That you will some day be a mother or a father; despite this illness, you will cradle an infant in your arms.
Go to some good theater. Reflect upon how theater can teach us about tragedy. Realize that you’re the star in your own heartbreaking show. Take a bow.
A memory. The warm spring air. The fresh green buds.
You will make it through this, you realize. You can feel happiness returning.
Know that with living comes change.
Deep emotion, whether happy or sad, is something to rejoice in. It means you’re human.
Take this mourning period to get adjusted to the new you, to mourn the old self.
You are simply changing.
For the better.

Disney World--the Great Mood Booster

My husband informed me that he wants to go to Disney World. Now, doesn't this place seem like a spot that would trigger your mania?

Everybody get happy!

So much music and movement, people from all over the world, colors and lights...

We're going.

This vacation should be a mood elevator...

I'm Running For President

Here ye, here ye. I'm running for president.

A disabled person should run the country because she's aware of her limits.

A mentally disabled person should run the country because he knows chaos well and wants to avoid it at all costs.

Turns out, I'm one of the strong ones.

What We May Have to Give Up After Being Diagnosed Bipolar

productivity--no more work-filled sleepless nights
biological children--you may decide not to pass illness along
a job--your job may prove to be too stressful
money--you must buy meds and therapy, hospitalization
time--you must see a psychiatrist on a regular schedule
convenience/freedom--You're a "slave" to your meds
your looks--you may gain weight, get acne
your insanity--you have to give up the old you (the incredibly fun, zany and adventurous you)
pride--#1 thing that must be given up
credibility--you may lose your credibility in some circles
friends--you may lose some friends

The diagnosis is a huge blow to anyone.

The Lady Behind the Glass

Did you ever stop to think that when you go to your psychiatrist's office, the lady behind the glass is more afraid of you than you are of her?

A secretary dissed me the other day by doing my business through a plate-glass window. I think she was afraid of me. She was a new secretary and not used to being around mentally ill people (i postulate).

If this happened to you, would you tell your psychiatrist about it?

Signs of our Mental State

Did you ever wonder what the world would be like if we came with mental health manuals. These manuals would list all of our mental maladies, our social maladies. They would tell someone if you're a control freak or if you have a very bad temper.

There are no signs like that, no manuals. People must watch our behavior over time to get a handle on our mental state(s).

I guess I'm not a big one for first impressions. They really don't mean anything.

The Big Picture

Life is a struggle. When you add in children, it’s even more of a struggle. How does one cope with all the pressures that come from being a parent?
I’ve devised a great little trick that I remind myself of whenever I get bogged down. The trick is looking at THE BIG PICTURE. Doing this relieves one at least momentarily from the drudgery that is the day at hand. Most often, we look at the LITTLE PICTURE, the one that’s closest to us. For example, in the little picture, you hands are covered with poo; your kid is screaming; the dinner is burning on the stove; the phone’s ringing, and your dog is eating a diaper.
But in the BIG PICTURE, you’re a stay-at-home mom raising a loveable toddler, who used to be a little infant, who is doing very well, thriving, you might say.
It’s simply a matter of changing the focus.
LITTLE PICTURE #2
Your purse contains an empty baby bottle, crumbs from Goldfish crackers, a dried-up baby wipe, a baby spoon and a crinkled unused (thank God) disposable diaper. You can’t even find a lipstick. And anyway, who wears lipstick?
THE BIG PICTURE
You’re a stay-at-home mom raising a loveable toddler, who used to be a little infant, who is doing very well, thriving, you might say.
LITTLE PICTURE #3
Your basement floor is covered with laundry. The washer is broken because you didn’t use one of those mesh bags for the baby socks (there’s a sock stuck in the machinery somewhere); the dog is vomiting; you have no clean clothes, and you’ve got to take the baby out tonight. But wait a minute, there are a clean pair of pajamas, and they look a little like a respectable shirt and pants...
Repeat after me: THE BIG PICTURE
You’re a stay-at-home mom raising a loveable toddler, who used to be a little infant, who is doing very well, thriving, you might say.
LITTLE PICTURE #4
Your mother tells you she wants to travel in her old age, not babysit. You call the nearest daycare, only to be put off. They have an opening on Fridays only. You don’t really trust anyone with your child. You can’t bring yourself to begin to call more daycares. You decide to quit your one link to the real world–your part-time job.
To the music now: THE BIG PICTURE
You’re a stay-at-home mom raising a loveable toddler, who used to be a little infant, who is doing very well, thriving, you might say.
This little BIG PICTURE trick works quite well. It’s a matter of substituting something ugly with something nice, or at least neutral.
You might have heard of this kind of psychological trick before. Psychologists and self help people have been advocating for years what they call "positive visualizations" as a relaxation technique. What one does is visualize a beautiful, stress-free environment for several seconds. For instance, one might imagine one is standing on a pine porch, looking at a beautiful, ice-cold lake in the Norwegian mountains. With this visualization, one is to begin to relax a bit.
The BIG PICTURE Mantra works in the same way.
What the mantra ultimately does is give you a few seconds away from the hellishness you’re in, and the body naturally relaxes and feels better.
By changing the focus and language, one remembers that, overall, one is not in TOO DEEP of DOO DOO.
Try it. Since you’ve decided to take the plunge and have a child, you’re certainly brave enough to try a little self-help advice. Try it.
It worked for me.

Wanted: Physically Disabled Person who's Married

Hi. I'm writing an article for a magazine about disability weddings. As you can imagine, I wrote the mental disability part of the article; now I need to write the physical disability part. I need physically disabled people who are willing to talk about their wedding. Any takers? Anyone want some publicity?

Actually, Phobias might be part of the bipolar game

You know, phobias might be right on the subject of bipolar illness. What do you think? Do phobias come with your bipolar illness?

Is the bipolar person more phobic than the average person?

Would You Buy a Lipstick on Ebay?

Germ Phobia article notes:

would you use your spouse's toothbrush?
would you French kiss on the first date?
would you eat an apple right off the tree w/o washing it first?
would you buy a bra at Goodwill?
would you eat a piece of toast off of a stranger's plate at a restaurant, if the stranger had left the restaurant?
do you sit down on public toilets w/o putting paper down on the toilet seat?
do you share a glass of diet coke with your best friend?
do you immediately shower after sex?
would you buy lipstick on ebay?


hello, guys. yes, this is still bipolar literature, but i thought i'd show you what i'm working on right now. i'm working on an article about germ phobias.

mood is pretty good. it's so rainy here, and cold. i'm fixin to turn 45 on Feb. 17. seems old. how's your mood?

Britney Spears, I'll Be Your Friend

Did I spell her name right? Boy, do I feel for this woman. Having a nervous breakdown is hard, but doing it in front of the whole world is really hard.

What I want to say to this woman is this:

It's not that bad. Get on some medication and get on with your life. Mental illness is not that bad. We live through it. We may not live through unmedicated mental illness.

On a lighter note, it's almost February! That means we're one month closer to lovely spring! More sunlight. Good for the mood.

To my friends at the AWP convention in New York right now: have a great time. I wish I were there.

I'm there in spirit.

Dina, where are you?

I've lost touch with a friend. Her name is Dina. I went to college with her. Dina, if you're out there reading this blog, contact me!

Depression is entirely over. Still on Prozac. My brother told me that he could tell I was better when I announced "I could go for a cigarette."

Of course, I don't smoke. My hubby said he'll divorce me if I become a smoker. He doesn't want to endure 2nd hand smoke, I guess.

It's so good to feel well again. I'm not manic, but I might be on my way up. I can tell that I'm getting a little manic when I start to get ideas for my blog and for articles and stories.

What a life!

My Kid Can Tell

Boy, since I've been feeling better, my 3-year-old son has been saying, "Mommy is happy. Mommy is happy."

I guess he can tell when I'm depressed.

He's happier too.

Watch out. Your children know your moods. They can tell when you're truly happy and when you're faking it.

"Mommy is crying."

We are not in this alone.

boy, i hope i can keep it up

it's good to be back. writing this blog every day is tough when you have to traverse periods of depression. it's hard to do anything when you're depressed, never mind write.

so maybe my goal should be "every other day." to try to post every other day.

i'll try for every day, but i don't think i'm that prolific. maybe i am

Yes, Folks, Peace can be found in the past

Harvest House was an old buffet in Akron, OH. I'm not sure if it existed beyond this town.

My grandparents used to eat there. They liked how everything was sold a la carte. They'd get a plate of ham, a dish of scalloped potatoes, don't forget the peas, and a dessert, say, cherry pie. And of course coffee.

The point is that Harvest House is now just a memory. A beautiful memory. When I'm looking for peace, I look backward into time.

Everything seemed understandable then. There were no clouds of ambivalent grey. Peas were only .35 cents.

Go back, young man, to simpler times. Go back to your roots. Talk to old friends. The real goal is continuity.

You are you. You're the same person who walked the face of the earth 30 years ago.

Where does one go when he has everything? When he's arrived. He goes back into the past.

And, eventually, he moves forward.

Peace

Hello, all.

what a pleasure it is to see that you've been here, even though I haven't. I can't say "i'm back," but i'm here for today.

been going through a severe depression.

you all understand.

it broke the other day.

hey, for all you guys looking for peace out there:

it can be found at the Harvest House.

more later