On Whether Manic Depression Is A Blessing Or A Curse Or Both

So, this is a question I struggle with periodically. Is Manic Depression a blessing, curse or both? There is no denying that my life has changed immensely both for the good and the bad since being diagnosed in the early 2000’s. But, is my life really worse than it was before? Was I truly happy, or was it a semblance of happiness? Would my life have taken the same path regardless?

Now that I have been practicing Nichiren Buddhism for about 5.5 years, I can honestly say I really do not know. One goal of Nichiren Buddhism is to become indestructibly happy to the core of your being so that you can face the obstacles and struggles that are inherent in life with the knowledge that whatever life is throwing at you you can handle it with maybe not, joy, but not anger or blame either. Which brings me to the question of whether I was happy before the diagnosis, or was I operating under an illusion that I was happy?

Having thought about this quite a bit, I really do not think that I was a happy person before the diagnosis. I had moments of extreme happiness and joy which I do miss primarily because those moments involve someone I miss a great deal. However, in general, I do not think I was what I would call a happy person, and never really had been. I was not a popular student, although I was certainly a very dedicated student throughout Middle School and High School, but I had no close friends or a person that I could take my problems to. I buried them, and not very successfully either. I got better at that, though. Probably not a good thing, but a necessary defense mechanism. I was “odd” in some way, shape or form that kept the other students from wanting to be my friend.

This was my reality until I went to college, and discovered an entirely new world of people my age, older than myself, and all with different life experiences. I was truly happy in college. My therapist thinks I first presented with Bipolar in college (I had already been diagnosed with PTSD), and looking at my transcript, I can see some signs that there may have been a problem with my moods. I dropped in and out a lot, couldn’t decide on a major, and drifted a lot. I dropped out for two years when I was 19 to “sow” my wild oats because I had not had that experience in High School. I got myself in trouble; some of it serious. But, with the help of rehab, and outpatient therapy, I pulled myself back together and went back with a strong determination to find my major and to earn my degree. I met my ex-fiance, and he rekindled my love of bicycling as he was an avid cyclist, and I had always enjoyed cycling. So, yes, I think I was happy in college. I “fit”.

After graduating, I set out to my find my first real job (the kind that pays more than minimum wage, or relies on tips). I landed the second job I applied for with a salary of about $28,000 per year. Although I thoroughly enjoyed what I did for a living, I was not happy with my environment, my boss, and the way I was treated by some of the other employees. To clarify, I was the Payroll Benefits Coordinator for a 200+ employee hospital, and was frequently blamed for people’s paycheck errors. That’s what the time clock is for. To keep track of your hours; if I don’t know if you worked, I cannot pay you. Pretty simple stuff, and most people did it once because I did not go out of my way to get them special checks to cover their mistakes. However, my boss was a micro-manager and I do not function well under constant scrutiny. So, I was very unhappy with that aspect. Then, I was asked to resign after I made a mistake that in retrospect was a pretty big one. They kept me on to train my replacement. That was my first go around with almost unbearable anxiety, and prescriptions for Xanax. Fortunately, I found a position at the University doing the same type of job for about the same salary. I was over the moon! I was back at my beloved University. It was during my tenure at the University that I had the breakdown that led me to seek out a therapist.

Our whole office was under extreme stress for reasons that are too complicated to explain. I found myself doing the job of two people, and working 12 to 14 hours per day. It was here that I met the individual that was probably as close to a soul mate as I have ever found. He made me happy, and therefore the environment was bearable. Then I melted down, and after about 6 months of weekly therapy, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Type II disorder, and then bipolar Type I with Psychotic tendencies. My world came to a screeching halt. I was once again fired, and this time was very different because now I was clinically mentally ill. I became very unhappy, and became a “frequent flyer” at the mental health unit of a local hospital. I was up, i was down, I was drinking…..heavily. My whole world turned on its head again.

At this time, I would say that Manic Depression was most definitely a curse. The doctors were trying to stabilize me, and onto the med-go-round I hopped. Most of what I can remember about that time is very fuzzy as the doctors tried one medication after another attempting to return my moods to something resembling normal. I was very depressed, frequently drunk, and just as frequently, suicidal. I just could not see any way out of the hole I had fallen into. My whole life revolved around doctor’s appointments, medications that didn’t work or caused unacceptable side effects. I was miserable. I was most definitely caught in the “Why me?” trap. So, yes, I would say the first 4 to 5 years were a curse. And, then I reached the point I call stable madness. I was still a danger to myself, and now I had the means, and I used them. Then one evening, I took a full prescription for Geodon (an anti-psychotic) and one of Welbutrin (an anti-depressant), and I waited. Then the drugs started to kick in, and I got very frightened because I could feel in my gut that I had gotten it right (or wrong) this time. I called 911, and told the dispatcher what I had taken and how much, and the paramedics were there in about 5 minutes. I was taken to the nearest emergency room where they put about 8 IV’s in me trying to flush the now digested medications. I almost died that night. I made a pact that evening that if the Universe and everything in it that was divine that if it allowed me to live through this with no ill effects, I would never do it again. The 6 year anniversary of that pact is approaching in July. I have been suicidal since, but you do not break pacts made with the Universe so I have never tried again regardless of how much I wanted to. My whole view on life changed during the time I was hospitalized following the successful revival of my life.

Not long after I made this pact, I was introduced to Nichiren Buddhism. At first, I thought the practice was weird, and the tenets difficult to understand. But, I kept at it sensing that something greater than myself was at work. I have never been religious, but I have always been spiritual. As I gradually learned more and more, and began to be able to say the prayers more easily, I started to feel better. This was entirely foreign to me. Something was working. I was becoming grounded, I was becoming more stable. I began to ride again. I wanted to see and meet people. I was beginning to think that perhaps life was worth living if only to practice and study Buddhism. I began to see that my previous trials and difficulties had left me with a gift; I was becoming appreciative and grateful for things and people I had taken for granted. I was having more good days than bad. And, the most peculiar of all, my ability to sense when another person was hurting or struggling in their life was becoming heightened. I began to think of others ahead of myself. I still had to vigilantly monitor my moods, but I was becoming less restless and dissatisfied. I became the Vice Women’s Division leader for a group of fellow Buddhists, and then the Women’s Division leader. Things were becoming okay. I was beginning to accept my illness, and think of it less as an illness but as something medically treatable.

It was about 2 years into my practice that I began to understand the practice as being essential to my life, and to my satisfaction with the cards I had been dealt. This is about the time I began to wonder if Manic Depression was a blessing, a curse, or both. Today, and the reason I wrote this, is that I realized that it is both. It is a blessing in that I have learned to appreciate and be grateful for the things and people in my life who make my life worth living. It is a blessing in that I have learned that I am not nearly as bad off as others I have met. And, it is a blessing that I have realized that I truly enjoy helping relieve others of their pain even if it is just a little bit and for a short time. It is a curse in that my moods still fluctuate though not nearly as badly as they once did, that I will be on medication for the rest of my life, and that I will still experience bone crushing depressions from time to time and that I will still have a desire to end my life at those times. So, I have finally answered my question: yes, I am a happy person today. I am alive. No, I am not always surfing the perfect sine wave, but that is okay because the sine wave always comes back. Sometimes, it just hangs out off shore for a while.

This Is Actually Tibetan Buddhism, But The Dalai Lama Explains The Main Tenets Well

I am also a Buddhist as well as many other things, and although this explanation is particular to Tibetan Buddhist chant and prayer (I am a believer in the Nichiren sect of Buddhism), The Dalai Lama explains the main precepts of Buddhism quite well. So, I thought I would post it for anyone interested in Buddhism, in general. Buddhism is very peaceful and, for me, calming.

Today I Got Two New Awards (Not Bragging Today)

English: Bob Marley live in concert, just a couple of years before his death (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hobby (Photo credit: Sergey Yeliseev)

Today, another blogger, ajaytao2010, volunteered me to pick out two awards from a total of thirteen. As, I am approaching the “big” move out of the house I used to share with a man I thought was something he turned out not to be, I am feeling a little like I am on a hammock that is rocking violently in a late summer wind. I am alternating from irritable (big defensive wall) to profoundly sad (no defenses there). I got married with the idea that this would be the only marriage i would ever have. I was in my late 30’s when I got married. I waited until I thought I had found the right man. I was very wrong as I often am. One of these days I am going to get this “life thing” right, I swear. i just do not know what a happy life looks like. I have never really had one. Not even as a child. I thought too much and analyzed the life out of things; probably why I am a great researcher. but, happy, no. Weird to other people and kids at school, yes. I wasn’t normal until I hit college, and realized that all the weirdos from high school had congregated there. Now, I wasn’t weird or strange or any one of a number of descriptors used over the years. I was accepted, I was allowed to explore ideas and philosophies. I was encouraged to explore, to inquire, to question, and to be myself (which was still a bit odd).

At any rate, I have been moving out of the house that was supposed to be a “fresh start” for my husband and myself, but nothing changed except me. I became less emotional which may or may not be a good thing. He continued with his way of life (of which I highly disapproved). It is almost like the status quo was fine for him, but I needed to work on myself. I was always in the wrong, always on the receiving end of small but biting barbs; I was being abused, and I recognized it. I had been trying to work up the courage to leave, but he always sweet talked me back, and then it would all start over again. We finally had the deal breaker fight a couple of months ago, and I went to bed that night determined to instigate divorce proceedings. I had told him that I would divorce him if he didn’t at least try to curb certain activities. He didn’t and told me to stop threatening. I said that it was a certainty. And, so it came to be. 

So, today, a blogger who has just started reading the convolution that is my life gave me two awards for my blog. Like I said, i do not really need awards to validate myself (that was me in college; I was defined by being the best student in the class), however, it is very nice and humbling that someone would actually not only read my esoteric writings about everything, but would find it interesting enough to follow it, and to deem it worthy of a couple of awards. Like I said, it couldn’t have come at a more opportune time in my life; recognition and validation of any kind is very appreciated when one has not heard much of it. So, one again, Ajaytao2010, thank you very much. I receive them with appreciation and gratitude.  🙂

On Suffering and Human Growth

Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

“Every time we suffer, we grow” ~ Ram Dass

 

…Suffering has a way of opening our hearts and putting us in touch with our compassionate nature… You cannot avoid growth if your heart is open. Suffering teaches us to love and to be kind, compassionate, and sensitive to the struggles of others. It is the greatest means of enlarging our perspective.

 

This idea is one of the pillars of Nichiren Buddhism as well as many other traditions; without obstacles, struggles and suffering, we cannot grow as compassionate human beings. If we do not suffer any obstacles or difficulties then how can we know what empathy truly is? How can we be open to the struggles of others, and not want to help alleviate their suffering? You cannot know compassion and “enlightenment” if you do not suffer. I think that having Bipolar makes me more open to the needs and struggles of others because chances are I have been in their shoes at some point. This is not to say that I understand their feelings in their totality, but I can empathize with their struggle or plight. Depression is a good example. I can see someone struggling with depression and know how that person is feeling because as a person with Bipolar, I have suffered through many depressions. So, I can understand the melancholy nature of being depressed; the sadness, the apathy, the feeling that the world really is flat and you could walk off the edge at any minute.

 

Of course, suffering can work in the opposite direction, too. It can close your heart down to the struggles of others and make you a very unsympathetic person. It can make a person very cold and closed to the suffering of others. This is unfortunate because by its very nature overcoming a struggle or obstacle is in itself human growth of spirit.

 

In the immortal words of Forest Gump: “….and that’s all I have to say about that.”

 

 

 

Bipolar Moments

It would seem that over the last several weeks, I have been having a series of bipolar moments. My general m.o. when I start to cycle is to want to hide in a cave and stay there until I die. Or, I just want to sleep because how can a person be depressed about anything when they are asleep. I mean, yes, your subconscious mind will find new and interesting things for you to do and places to visit. But, on the upside, sometimes you can see people you haven’t seen in ages. That’s always pretty cool. 

What is not cool is the fact that I am cycling. Which means I am depressed, but with little touches of manic spurts thrown in for good measure (if it doesn’t kill you, it will make you stronger; at least that’s what they say). I hate cycling with a purple passion. I cannot cycle like a “normal” bipolar and be just manic or just depressed. No, I get to be both at once. First you find yourself crying over nothing. And, I do mean NOTHING! There’s no reason to be crying. But, there I am crying like someone just killed my kitten.Then I also get irritated very easily, and everything seems to be standing in work boots on my last nerve. Not a good time to talk to me, or ask me what is wrong because I will tell you. I have a mouth-brain disconnect during these cycles.

My husband is currently not talking to me because he made the mistake of asking me what was wrong this morning. I have held this particular set of feelings back for quite some time now. You can imagine what happened. I didn’t yell, scream, kick my feet or throw a tantrum, but I did explain what was wrong in no uncertain terms. He hasn’t talked to me since. I have no idea why he hasn’t; all I did was explain that I cannot keep asking my mother to pay the rent because I am paying all the utility bills trying to keep us with TV to watch, gas to cook with, you know all those essential “amenities.” I must have said something the wrong way. I guess, it isn’t like it doesn’t happen every single day of my life. And to make things worse, I am a Nichiren Buddhist who believes in the law of Cause and Effect. You make a cause, and the effect will manifest either right away or at a time when you least expect it. So, I must have made a bad cause this morning, because the effect has been silence. Not my fault, he asked.

I have even had a mental health care professional explain to him that while I can manage this illness, I really do not have control of my emotions. He still refuses to read anything that would lead to greater understanding of this illness. He says I put my illness first, then my cats, then he comes in third. I do not know where he got that idea, but yes, in order to remain well, the illness must be dealt with daily. If  I do not keep a vigilant watch over this creature, there will be no relationship, although I do feel vibes from him that maybe he is starting to move in that direction. Won’t be the first. It will hurt more because I love him enough to have married him, and still do.

I do not know where this comes from. I wish the general public and researchers would take mental illness more seriously instead of just saying that we are crazy. Because we are not crazy, we have medically treatable problems that make life more challenging for us, and those around us. I just think that if more people were aware of the effects of the more common mental health issues affecting millions of Americans and people worldwide, there would be more research into the causes of these illnesses. I am not alone in this. I have millions of people who are just like me; having problems at work, with personal relationships, with mood swings, and many other symptoms. I can deal with having trouble in the workforce, I can deal with the mood swings, the irritation, the agitation, but I do not think that I would handle the loss of another relationship very well. There have already been too many.

You just have to love those bipolar moments. They are so not worth the inevitable crash. And, when you do crash, the depression bites in with fangs, and will not let you go. It just shakes you around like a rag doll until you just give in or give up. That’s about where I am headed right now. I can feel it coming just like it has for 20 years.