Sincerely,
Terry Colorado

Thank you for many reasons. I will forever recall your words. Bless you and you “Angel” as well.

Julia

Can we stay “on topic?”

I think the topic is Bipolar Disorder.

I am a masters-level psychotherapist who has worked with patients diagnosed with this disorder for years. It has only been within the last 10ish years that I have been willing to admit that I also suffer (SUFFER) with this disorder.

I review my past in its entirety and chiefly recognize the depressive episodes. I now recognize that I was able to breeze through graduate school because of one of my first (FULL) manic cycles. I was able to keep my life “between the lines” until my life imploded with the premature death of my father. My existence has been a circus ever since that time – 10 years of this hell. My life is in shards at this time and it is only because of the unconditional love and understanding of one man that I am not homeless and under a bridge.

My own family refuses to admit that I am mentally ill and instead blames the medication I take to minimize the symptoms as THE CAUSE for the behaviors that they do not understand. My own family shuns me due to my illness – chiefly the depression. (I was born into a jovial family). My family thinks I can just “shake-off” the episodes of depression that paralyze me. I was always told that “happiness is a choice” and I simply was making the wrong choice.

When my first DESTRUCTIVE bout of mania hit me (after my father’s death) and I destroyed, a “perfect life” (married to a beautiful and wealthy man) my family shunned me.

Somehow, through the unlikely help of AA (although I do not have a substance disorder) I received the support and guidance I needed put my life back together and get a position as a psychotherapist. That was the pivotal moment when I was able to give the monster that inhabits my body and, at times, seems to control me, a name – Manic-Depression (bipolar disorder). I was educated in the diagnostic criteria for this disorder so I avoided it with my own psychiatrist and received treatment only for my depression.

I continued to diagnose the manic-depression in others and as noted by the comment from Sue on (8/8/09 @ 10:14 AM) behaved much like the author of “An Unquiet Mind.” Just as Dr. Jamison noted the behaviors and alarming rate of treatment/medication noncompliance in her own patients – I was guilty of the same behavior.

I am making this self-disclosure for a reason. Bipolar disorder is perhaps the most evil, insidious disease I have ever encountered professionally – and (unfortunately) personally. Patients with this disorder have the highest rates of SUCCESSFUL suicides. Although I am trained in its diagnosis and treatment, I am unable to battle it successfully on my own.

*For the record, I am considered a successful psychotherapist based upon treatment protocols established at my facility. My colleagues brought me to my own self-disclosure and diagnosis.

After acknowledging the possibility of bipolar to my psychiatrist, my medication regime was altered accordingly. I immediately gained 60 pounds. I was young, single, and a formerly attractive female. I did not come to obesity naturally – it was a side effect of the medication. I would not (nor could I blame another female in our society) remain on any medication that caused me to blow-up like the Hindenburg. Thus began my own personal battle with treatment noncompliance.

As stated earlier, I am writing to educate the willing from a front row seat about this disease. I will also provide information for the saints who remain at our sides while we battle this demon at this message’s conclusion.

EDUCATION: This disease is evil and alluring to its captives. We are captives – unable to escape the push and pull of a torrent of emotions equal to that of Katrina. Mania encompasses your every sensation – the ends of your hair tingle with excitement. Your mind needs only to choose from the endless array of exciting possibilities that are laid out before you like a winning hand of cards. I am superwoman. I can do absolutely anything during these episodes. Nothing can stop me. Secondary to my religious upbringing, I have personally been imbued with the power of the Holy Spirit to accomplish many spiritual tasks and right the wrongs of society. My life has a meaning and a purpose. The air about me sparks with energy. I am the very real center of all attention in every situation. I lead all discussions and have all the correct responses. Everyone laughs at my quips and the timing of my jokes – perfection.

These episodes may last for months (hence a speedy masters degree) or simply until noon when the thick velvet veil of depression brings my world to a crashing halt. The transition period is the most gruesome to those in my presence. I become pure hatred as the joy slips from my grasp. I return to the real world, which is in a disaster due to my inability to “will” the energy of my manic endeavors to completion. I exist in a world of unfulfilled promises and shattered careers. I am a vessel filled to the brim with my own self-loathing. My plans for suicide become comforting to me. Suicide becomes my constant companion as I withdraw from the world about me – my fallen house of cards.

A MESSAGE TO THOSE FEW WHO REMAIN AT OUR SIDES:

A word does not exist to express the gratitude we owe you. During our moments of clarity – between the push and pull of the disease – we may be able to peer out at you and recognize your sacrifice and loyalty. During the torrents of emotions, we are not at the helm of our minds/body.

I described it this way to my one remaining support person. I feel like I am on the back of a wild stallion, galloping at top speed into the wilderness. My only option is to hold on tight to the horse’s mane until the energy drains from his body and then, and only then (MAYBE), I can assert some control over my own emotions and destiny.

I offer a most sincere thank you to those of you who remain beside us through the tides of this potentially fatal disease.

My “Angel” has emotionally and physically carried me through the intoxicating highs and the near fatal lows of manic depression. He has seen me through multiple treatment and therapy regimes. He has loved me at a size 20 and a size 6. It is to him I owe my life.

I make this “confession” as a way of thanking him for the unconditional love he has given me through the course of this disease. It is my hope that my confession may offer insight, understanding, hope and most importantly “thanks” to those of you who are also “Angels” because you have remained by the side of your loved one battling this disease.

Bless You!

Maria

It is a horrible disease/disorder and has the potential to ruin the person’s life and the lives of those around them.

Just don’t be quick to judge someone who obviously has been through the wringer and feels angry, exhausted, bitter, etc. Those are HER feelings. Don’t try to invalidate them.