almost lovers

I live in a marrying kind of town. I've heard jokes that you go to college to get your MRS degree. Cincinnati is definitely family-oriented. People even bring small children- and babies- to my bar.

I remember a very enlightening conversation I had with my good friend Rex. I like Rex because he's very honest, and he doesn't just do things because I tell him to, or it makes me happy. He's a cagey guy sometimes, but he will be honest with me when I ask for it.

I remember entertaining the idea that I might never get married, and I brought it up to Rex. I talk about this like it was an easy, lighthearted conversation- trust me, it wasn't. There was crying and sadness and anger. But when I expressed the concern that I might never find anyone who would be strong, smart, patient, etc enough to marry me, he agreed. Don't fault him this. Don't leave comments saying, no, Dale- there is someone out there for everyone! First of all, that's not true. Second of all, I'm not even done with the post. Thirdly, it's not necessarily anything to feel bad about. I'm not going to pity myself because I tend to be thought of as "more trouble than I'm worth."

I'm a pretty complex person- it goes with the territory of being bipolar. And people don't want complexity. Simple is nice and easy and free of concern. I'm never going to be simple, or easy, or free of concern (I am kinda nice). Finding someone who is willing to deal with that- those men are definitely not a dime a dozen.

But here's where I say something original- I was thinking the other night. I got home late, and I was in bed, trying to fall asleep, but my brain wasn't ready. A thought occurred to me, and I considered getting up right away and writing this blog... but I decided I would remember and just went to sleep. Miraculously, I remembered the next day, and then today. So here I am... wow, that was just gibberish. But it gives you some context- this thought is not fresh, but it's definitely reflected upon.

Ok, now- I promise... the original thought. It occurred to me that it's not really men not accepting me as I am. It's not that there aren't any men who would/could fall in love with me (in fact there has been a crazy few- it's easy to fall in love with me, and out). I realized- I kind of don't want to expose people to the reality of my illness. No one REALLY knows how bad it is. Mostly because there's no way to explain it. And it's not the worst case of bipolar ever, but it's definitely worse than people think. And I see how hard it is on my parents to love me so much and see me in so much pain. It's too late for them; they are stuck with me. But a husband? I don't think I could submit someone I truly loved to the inner workings of my mind- because it's not a pretty place. When I was flying into a minor rage over this damn computer, I thought- how could I submit someone, anyone to that? How could I make them witness that and feel for me and empathize and try to understand- something they will never acheive? It seems to me that I might truly be more trouble than I am worth. Hell, sometimes I'm more trouble to myself than I think I am worth. And to cause the pain that comes with mental illness- and bring someone else into that world- it just doesn't seem like a very nice thing to do. Kind of like surprising a person afraid of clowns with a trip to the circus.

So honestly- don't cry for me, Argentina. Really, it is, until now, a subconscious decision to hold people at arm's length. Like a cop putting out the yellow tape to keep bystanders from seeing the carnage. It's just for your own good.

Getting Off

A medication, that is. It’s no fun- I’m not going to lie. It took four days with no sleep to realize that I might be experiencing some withdrawal. The shaking was a secondary sign. My rate of talking went from fast to the speed of light.

It’s a personal decision- and against all advice, I’m doing it without the oversight of my doctor. Not because I’m a sneaky person- I KNOW that her help would be invaluable. But I’ve asked to go off the medication in the past and she’s resisted it. And, I have no insurance, so I can’t really afford to keep going to her to talk about it. So I’ve been tapering off slowly, and monitoring my behavior, as well as telling my roommates and friends to warn me if my behavior becomes abnormal- or more abnormal than usual.

The medication is an anti-psychotic. I was put on another anti-psychotic originally, Zyprexa. I gained 30 pounds in a month, and another 30-40 over the next four months. Over the course of this my previous doctor reacted to the weight gain by putting me on a migraine medication that has the side effect of appetite loss. Gee, thanks. I was hoping to take more pills. He also put me on a blood pressure medication to reduce tremors that were another side effect. Pretty soon, at age 24, I was taking up to eight medications a day.

I got a new doctor, and reduced my medications (mostly at my insistence). It’s time to taper off one more. Because while the new anti-psychotic is less likely to cause weight gain, it’s still causing weight gain- and losing it has been nearly impossible.

So I’m going off the new anti-psychotic. I’ve been on it for a couple years. It’s never really affected me much. My miracle drug has always been my anti-convulsant/mood stabilizer. It would be nice, at age 28, to only take a couple medications, and be able to fit a vitamin into my pillbox.

a non-epiphany

Today I agreed to a phone interview with Fidelity Investments. Admittedly, not a dream job... but a job... and that's better luck than I've been having.

So the conundrum. I visited OU hoping for an epiphany. None came. I applied for jobs, hoping for "the one" to come through, all epiphany-like. Nothing.

I don't think it's strictly related to the bipolar- I think all of us, at some point or another, hope that fate will deal us a hand and keep us from having to make the decision ourselves. But I think Ms. Fate sometimes holds her hand close to her vest, and lets us make the first play.

However, I think that the bipolars of the world are more afraid than others to take the first step. Something about the future-living sense (as opposed to living in the present) clings to the bipolar soul- what if? resounds in the brain. But when you sit back and reflect- it shouldn't be so much what if, but so what? I go to OU and hate it- so what? I leave. I take the job with Fidelity and hate it- so what? I leave. The existence of alternatives is somehow beyond my grasp. The idea that if this doesn't go so well- I can always change it. The ironic thing is that I constantly give that advice... live in the moment. But the paralysis of fear is ever-present. And then the resulting stress from NOT making a decision worsens the fear. It's one big cycle of non-epiphanies chased by fear.

So the decision to act. I'm sure I'll make it. It's not like I don't have an awesome support system of friends and family. And I can always leave.

Nature or nurture

I know that bipolar is a chemical imbalance. I know it's nature. But the more I read about bipolar, the more I wonder- does it even exist. My favorite book on bipolar, The Bipolar Handbook, seems to blame everything on bipolar. Bad memory? Bipolar. Feeling sore? Bipolar. Spending too much money? Bipolar. Can't keep a job? Bipolar.

Now, I can look at that and think- yes, I do have all those problems. And maybe they are related to Bipolar. But it makes me think that it promotes the using of Bipolar as an excuse to get out of stuff. I could be entirely wrong- because I know I struggle with bipolar and how it affects my relationships, my work, even my ability to deal with heat. Bipolar makes you extraordinarily succeptible to stress, and that includes physical stress.

But then I think- they tried to tell me I have fibromyalgia once. And I'm thinking to myself- does this even exist? It seems like a quack job to me. You feel pain? It hurts to walk? I'll find a way to give you drugs! We'll call it... um... the equivalent of painful body. Genius, I tell you.

I know bipolar is real. There has been research to show that there are significant differences in brain chemistry in those with diagnosed bipolar. And I know that the difference in mindset, attitude, and emotions that occurred after I started Lamictal was noticeable. But at the same time- it seems like American society is becoming one that is obsessed with the victim- and so, everyone wants to be one. That is not to say I'm not innocent in this- I blame a lot of my problems on bipolar. But it's time to stop and look at this as an opportunity to overcome adversity and come out stronger than to make myself a victim.

An introduction

This blog will be (hopefully) the precursor to a book I plan on writing about living with bipolar.

What many people do not realize is that bipolar is felt and dealt with every moment of every day. Being "normal" is what takes effort.

Through this blog, I hope to make those with bipolar feel less alone, and people without understand.

Good luck to me!