cyclothymia

While there is no doubt that I fall fully on the bipolar spectrum, I am currently experiencing a form of cyclothymia.  Cyclothymia is a form of mild or subthreshold bipolar disorder.  Instead of cycling from full blown manic to major depressive episodes, in cyclothymia the fluctuation is from hypomania to mild depression.  I have been on a mild mood cycle all week.  I feel good in the morning, hypomanic in the afternoon, and mildly depressed in the evening.

While cycling of this sort still allows me to be fairly functional, it is exhausting after a week of it.  By evening I am overwhelmed by life and having a feeling of impending doom.  Well, not doom exactly, more like...nothing's ever going to work out so why bother trying any more.  And from that feeling it is easy to move on to, "since nothing's ever going to work out, why not get drunk."  Obviously, getting drunk is not the answer, but it is hard to see what the answer might be.

At this juncture it is important to step up the basics.  Take the positive actions that are fairly obvious.

1.  Step up meeting attendance
2.  Eat right
3.  Exercise
4.  Talk to somebody
5.  Do the dishes

You can stay sober and reasonably sane for a long time by simply focusing on small victories.  Victories like going to bed with a clean kitchen.  Showering and shaving, complete with aftershave, is another tried and true for me.  If you don't have bipolar disorder or you're not an addict, doing the dishes may seem like a trivial task.  On some days doing the dishes can be a lifesaver for me.

The other basics I mentioned, meetings, eating, exercising, and sharing, all seem about as straightforward as the dishes...right?   Well, they are straightforward in a way, but when you are feeling depressed and that your world is spiraling downward, the telephone can seem to weigh a hundred pounds.  Or getting in the car and driving to a meeting can seem like an impossible journey.

And really that's what this whole bipolar recovering addict thing is.  An incredible journey.  Just like the Disney movie, only way weirder.  

Prosaic

I thought about my last post and realized that it was prozaic in tone.  That is to say that it was, "lacking in poetic beauty."  This, not suprisingly, comes from years of expository writing with very little narrative writing.  There is no real problem with expository writing except that it fails to accurately convey the emotions and thoughts present during a manic or depressive episode.  Bipolar disorder is, by definition, a mood disorder and not a cognitive disorder.  Therefore I will attempt to intersperse some narrative style into my writing.  This will be a stretch for me but probably a good experience.

The other night, when I forgot my medications, became hypomanic, and stayed awake all night I felt awful.  My mood was rapidly cycling between euphoric and dysphoric.  Because of the forgotten dose of Paxil I was having a physical as well as emotional reaction.  My arms were tingling and I was having periodic, panicky sensations.  I like to call them "fear fantasies."  I was feeling that I might be having a heart attack.  Fantizing about the collapse on the floor, the ambulance ride to town, and the frantic dying phone calls to family members as I was preparing to be airlifted to the nearest city with a cardiac unit.  Needless to say, I was not actually having a heart attack except in my mind.

During sections of my hypomanic episode I was feeling as if I could do anything.  Stay up all night, make a batch of cheese, write a fabulous blog post, clean the kitchen, read a novel, and or write a new song on the guitar.  In reality, I accomplished very little.  My mind was racing and wouldn't slow down.  The euphoric feeling that I could do anything and the world was at my fingertips alternated with the dysphoric feeling that I was dying, losing my mind, may never sleep again, and may have to be locked up permently in a psychiatric unit.  Of course, none of these things actually happened.  The weird thing about symptoms of bipolar disorder is that they feel they are going to last forever.  Or, more accurately that life has always been and will always be crazy.  That applies to both depressive and manic episodes.  The idea that, "tomorrow is a new day" or that "this too shall pass," makes no sense to someone who is experiencing symptoms of mental illness. 

I was trying to find words, either my own or someone elses, that encapsulated the feelings I was having.  I thought of the Yeats poem, "Second Coming", and the line that the "centre could not hold."  The stanza goes like this,

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

William Butler Yeats

This is exactly how it feels to be having a mixed state manic episode.  My brain is whirling in ever tightning circles, going in a faster and faster inward spiral until in ultimately implodes.  By the same token, the real world also seems to be imploding as well.  Spiraling out of control, falling apart, and eventually self destructing.

How did I snap out of this episode?  Well, getting back on my medications most certainly helped.  Eating and sleeping didn't hurt either, getting into some meaningful work, and trying to be of service to "God and my fellow man."  This last meaningful work part involved a trip up into the mountains to cut firewood for next winter.  It was a long, sweaty day of splitting rounds of wood and loading them on to the truck.  By the end of the day, I was physically exhausted and my mental state had ironed itself out.

With that, blessings and good night.