Life Behind the Wire Mesh Screen

By Selina I. Glater, M.A., R.M.T

The wire mesh window screen was thick and kept the bright sunlight from entering my room. My mind felt thick,just like the window sscreen, and I felt weighted down and heavy, as if ina a fog. It was here, at this psychiatric facility for children and adolescants, that I learned about my mood swings-the early indications of bipolar disorder. This wire mesh also represented being cut off from the world in this place I now called "home"

Age 14 brought depression and suicidal despair. As a young child I had lived through many surgeries for physical ailments, some more severe than others. I knew the inner workings of hospitals better than I understood the goings on in my own home. I had felt cold and outright rejection of a mother who said I was "killing her", and of a family who said the could not handle my depression and the attendant emotional disturbances. The following is an expert from my diary (at the time) which conveys a sense of my emotional state prior to my institutionalization:

"There are many things that I can't forget. Sometimes it's the cold, sharp smile of the white draped medicine man, ot the hum of the buzz saw inside of my head, and every once in a while it's the smell of mother's kitchen and her warm embrace on chilly winter nights. When I try to forget these ancient memories thay always seem to come back to haunt me with plastic images turned tro reality in my sleepless hours. I've tried to forget the empty feeling I had when mother told me that I was leaving for good. "Rotten kid, crazy, selfish, inconsiderate bitch"-they called me everything, and I never ventured even one response. My eyes were always closed to the name calling and the fiery brawls of the sane. My life seemed all too cluttered and confused for parents or teachers to understand let alone listen too. I felt like a trapped bird as my days were streched out to weeks and my weeks to years and all the while the twilight zone inside of my head was getting larger and larger. That great bubble of days was about to pop and all of it's bright colored contents left to spill out over my forever lasting memories of home Home where the earth was the sky, and hell was my heaven."

I had seen blackness of the spirit, of the soul, and I sought relief in music. As a violinist I was able to transcend the dysfunctional home environment and my own despondency-I was lifted to the stars. Sometimes the notes would dance off the page becoming faster and faster and more effervescent. This was a danger sign, but short lived and again I would be hurled down the abyss, feeling like I must end this life as I had come to know it.

I could feel my brain chemistry change. Even though I didn't know what was happening to me biologically. Freedom from the depression was, and still is, like a light switch being turned on in my head. The brain "clicks" into gear and the world becomes more crisp and clear. From here the swing can move beyond comfortable to outright mania and a feeling of being totally out of control-out of touch with and apart from the rest of the world. Feelings of self confidence, power, and euphoria pervade.

Bipolar disorder has often cut me off from the world. Living in an institution only made this gap grow greater and in time an internal voice would "scream" for recognition and closeness; someone to understand the despair, the aloneness, the fear. Locked in isolation I was given time to think Thorazine was a "mental straight jacket"-it did nothing to calm the "screams." I needed human interactions, and affection. I needed to be held, to be OK. We who have this disorder need to connect with others-not disconnect. And we need this especially within the confines of an inpatient psychiatric facility. Institutions perpetuate distancing! Wrong perscription! Isolation hurts. In the process we are degraded-like non humans. It would be an interesting experiment to take away the staff's keys, put them in isolation for a day, and see just how "human" they feel.

Living with with this disorder takes courage and the ability to fight to get well. As a fellow bipolar always tells me "It's a case of our transmitting and over receiving that sets our moods swinging." Medications may not always work, It is a delicate balance of psychotherapy and medication that is vital to stabilization-not the cure (yet)-of bipolar disorder. You, in order to survive, must speak frequently for your rights as a patient and for your desires, too-for you alone know your brain best.

The wire mesh screen symbolizes the isolations. And I know it still hovers out there in the periphery of my vision-uncomfortably close despite the many successes I have amassed. Yet the screen also beckons the world outside to look inward for a place of acceptance and an ackowledgment of the person with bipolar disorder who still suffers while the bell tolls for all of us.

Bipolar-What it's like and what it is

Hi. My name's Megan and I'm 23 and just graduated from the University of Kansas in May of 1997. I think I'm the firt one ever to graduate with a 4.0 and get involuntary committed to the stae hospital within a month--a dubious honor at best. But that tells you alot about bipolar disorder; it can make you really creative and energetic and then just as suddenly render you incapable of functioning.

My journey within the psychiatric mess began in late September 1996, when I had my first psychiatric hospitalization and first experience with the psychiatric medications. Before that I was fairly miserable but didn't really know it; after that things went downhill fast. I entered the hospital with severe depression and started zoloft. When I got out things got better FAST; I felt convinced that in fact nothing was wrong with me and things were never really that bad, that I could do anything I wanted, and that the medication was unnecessary. So I quit taking it. Then an even more severe depression atacked me.

People always think they understand depression--even I did before I had it.But they don't; they can't. It totally saps you. It takes over your mind and prevents anything from making sense. It takes over your body and makes you feel incapable, literally, of putting one foot in front of the other. I started drinking heavily because reality was intolerable and by November of 1996 I had my first suicide attempt.

Suicide a peculiar thing. People ask me,"was it a cry for help?" or "Did you really want to die?" These questions assume a rational frame of mind prior to the attampt, and by definition suicide attempts are not rational. The best answer I can come up with is that I was absolutely coonvinced I wanted to die, but in fact I just didn't want to live anymore. They sound the same, but they aren't.

So I got intoduced to the world of emergency rooms, intensive care units, and threats of involuntary committments. I had my stomach pumped and have never been so sick in my life, bit it didn't stop me from three more attempts in the next 8 months. I decided God must really want me to live because people just kept poppong by and saviing me no matter what I did. Most of the time I'm glad.

Anyway, my mind was completely out of control. It was so out of control that I didn't even know how out of control it was until months later when I was in the state hospital. I was mildly psychotic most of the time and plagued with severe thought disorder--I didn't see or hear things, but inside my head a constant, nearly audible and visual display made daily functioning difficult. I felt surprised when people looked at me because I felt invisible. I didn't know who I was because one minute I'd be very agitated and driven to do stuff, and the next I felt like staying in bed for weeks. Mostly I compensated by staying as drugged as possible so I didn't have to deal with it, and by the way LOTS of bipolars have substance abuse problems also.

Things came to a head when I got involuntarily commited to Osawatomie State Hospital and spent a month with a new diagnosis ( I had been diagnosed with unipolar depression before) and new medication. Slowly things fot better, but very slowly, and the state hospital SUCKED. But once the medication started working I could look back and see how miserable I really had been.

It's always like that. When I'm depressed I think that's just the way things are and they'll always be like that, and when I'm manic it's just the same way. Only in hindsight and with the help of others can I say "I was manic" or "I was depressed." This illness makes me feel as though my mind is my enemy; I can't control it and seem to lack the understanding introspection I so envy in others.

But on the bright side bipolar disorder is a treatable disorder. I think of it like diabetes. If a diabetics take their insulin and other precautions, they can manage their disease. But sometimes they still get sick. Simarly, I have to take medications and other steps and even though I do that I still have symtoms of the disorder. I'm grateful that the treatment of mental illness had progressed beyond cold sheets wraps and lockdowns, although IMHO it'still in the dark ages and it's very inexact science(it took me over a year to get the diagnosis)

Learning to live with a mental illness is hard, society makes it worse by the stigma they assign to people with these disorders. Medications makes my bipolar disorder manageable, but in someways I'm just not like "normal" people, whatever that means. I have to learn to recognize when to give myself some time off from stress, because stress trigger severe episodes for me. I don't feel comfortable talking to people about it, especially coworkers and supervisors. I'm unemployed and always stressed about work because the last job I held ended when I got fired for having to go to the hospital. They woulsn't have fired a diabetic.

I try to help people undestand bipolar disorder and mental illness by speaking to classes at the University of Kansas. Students idenify with me because I was one not too long ago. I like getting real questions from them because I think each candid asnser removes more stigma.

I hope this page strikes a chord with someone. mduffy@idir.net Mail me if you want to...

WELCOME TO "ABOUT ME"

My name is Kathy and I am 40 years old. I am bipolar (also called manic/depressive). This change in diagnosis was only made about a year ago when I found a new doctor. I was initially diagnosed with clinical depression and placed on antidepressants about 10 years ago. What I didn't know was that, if a bipolar person only takes antidepressants and no mood stabilizers, the medication can actually make the manic/hypomanic episodes worse. I was in therapy for a number of years and always felt that if I just tried harder, I could get the moood swings under control. The inability to do so really affected my self-esteem and self-coonfidence. The "if onlys" almost killed me. During 10 years, I had several different doctors due to moving around a lot. Not one of them even considered bipolar disorder. My current doctor reconsidered the diagnosis of clinical depression and placed me on a mood stabilizer as violent mood swings have almost disappered. During the past year, I have felt like a new person. The lows are not so low and the highs have disappeared. During the past year, I have felt like a new person. For the first time in my life, I am not swinging between feeling totally depressed or being on top of the world. I feel I am finally getting control of my disorder.

Since being diagnosed as bipolar, I have done alot of research on it. One of my reasons for creating this page was to provide information for those who are also bipolar. As there are several different variations within the disorder, it is sometimes hard to make an accurate diagnosis and bipolar disorder is often overlooked. I strongly suggest that anyone who has been dignosed as clinically depressed, in on medication, yet still consistently has severe mood swings, consider asking their doctor about bipolar disorder. Not everyone has "manic" spisodes. I, personally, am hypomanic and am also a very rapid cycler. I have never experienced the episodes of wild elation and psychosis hat most people believe are usually associated with bipolar disorder and many others do not experience it either. I also experience "mixed states" in which I am depressed and high at virtually the same time.

Bipolar disorder is like any other disease and has a morbidity rate. However, unlike other diseases, the morbidity factor in bipolar disorder is suicide. The suicide rate among those who are bipolar is one in four or five. A twenty to twenty five percent suicide rate is noting to sneeze at. But, like other chronic diseases, the morbidity rate is reduced with treatment. Just like the hypertsensitive or diabetic person has to control their disease, those if use who are bipolar must do the same. If we do not, we can lead relatively normal lives. I would like to share a little of what my life has been like.

As I said before, I was only diagnosed as bipolar a year ago, However, unknowingly, I have fought the disorder my whole life. The greatest effect having bipolar disorder has had on my life is instability- instability in employment, instability in relationships (I have been married 4 times), instability with family- instability in general. I started working when I was 15 years old. I am now 40. In those 25 years, the longest time I have ever held one job is 22 months. If you were to contact any of my previous employers, you would be told that there were times that I seemed unbeatable. My work performance and product were excellent. Then came the times I would eventually crash. Because the hypomanic state is not constant, Poor performance and work product followed the cycling from the hypomanic to the depressed state. And I would eventually quit because I was afraid that I would be fired.

The same thing can be said of my marriages. There would be times that I was "Wonder Woman" and times that I literally couldn't make it out of bed. While I was in the depressive cycle, I became almost agoraphobic. I would withdraw and isolate myself from others because I did not want them to see me. My latest husband and I are currently seperated. I doubt that we will be able to resolve out differences and remain married. The frustrations and resentments on both sides, that have been caused by my illness are just too great. But, for a change, I am doing what needs to be done for me. I could not continue living in the situation I was in and get control of my disorder.

Another reason I created this page was to educate. Bipolar disorder is a mental illness. And in our society, to admit to having a mental illness is just not done. There is great social stigma attached to mental illness. My feeling is that when people are told you have a mantal illness, they expect you to suddenly pull an ax from your purse and start chopping away at them. The brain is an organ and made up of tissue and blood just like the other organs in our bodies. What I do not understand is why people can accept a person having heart disease, or liver disease, or kidney disese, or any disease of other organs, but, they cannot accept a disease of the brain. Bipolar disorder is neurobiological. That means that there is a physical cause. It is a nuerbiological disease which reguires treatment with medication. Without the proper treatment, it can lead to death. The worst thing is that death is generally at the hand of the person suffering from the disorder. Bipolar disorder is also believed to be genetic. Srudies are currently being done on families with high instances of bipolar disorder in order to locate the gene that causes it.

The only way for the social stigma of mental illness to be removed is to educate and explain that it is only one of the many diseases that can affect our bodies and, as a result, our lives. Just because a person suffers from a mental illness does not mean that they cannot be any less a productive member of society as a person who has any other chronic ilness can be. Most bipolars are highly intelligent people. In fact, there are a great many creative, and even famous, persons who suffer from bipolar disorder. Just as I am now learning to calm my brain and have a normal, functional life, they have also learned to do so.

My Life As A Bipolar Person

I was born an only child on September 7, 1961 in Mobile, Alabama. My family moved to Houston, Texas when I was in the first grade. Of course as a child, I was not familiar with the word "depression." But I knew what sad meant; and my mom was always very very sad.

My parents divorced when I was around age 12. I became quite down myself about the breakup of the marriage. Around the same time period my mother was admitted into a local hospital. I was puzzled. I guess I must have wondered if doctors could cure sadness. But in my confusion I remember that I still had hope for mom. Little did I know that physicians had no magic happy pills nor was there a surgery to mend a broken heart.

Then....I too became very very sad. Looking back I can see that there were two of me. Well, of course that's impossible, no one had even heard of cloning in the early seventies. At school I was pretty, smart, and very popular. Everyone found me to be happy and funny on a daily basis. But then I had to return home and enter a place where depression captured and consumed me.

Not long ago I was introduced to a phrase in a therapy session; one that has never left me. "Fake it, Until you make it!" rung in my ears and set off thoughts in my head like a fireworks display. The moment that I heard it; I knew that for thirty plus years....I would....in public, "fake it." My smiles, my laughter, my happiness....I had faked it all...in hopes that one day I would, "make it." Make it past the depression, past the heartaches, and past the loneliness.

I graduated from Alief Hastings High School in Houston in 1980. I married in April of 1982 and later gave birth to two lovely children. After four and a half years of physical, mental, and emotional abuse I divorced. In April of 1987 I met my current husband, Mark. We were married in May of 1988.

I had fought depression my entire life...but "faking it," just wasn't cutting it. So, in 1988 I sought help from a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed "severely depressed" and prescribed a new ' wonder' drug....Prozac.

That was the disaster that lead to my current diagnosis. It seemed that Prozac took over my mind and my body. It made me feel more depressed. I became obsessed with the notion of dying. I searched my surroundings for the perfect suicide aide. I was scared.....scared of myself.

My doctor admitted me into a local hospital and began testing. I was 26 years old, and I was consumed with the thought of ending my life. Then came the diagnosis; I was Manic-depressive or in medical terminology...Bipolar. It was nothing familiar to me; but the physician assured me that with proper medication I could live a perfectly normal life. I was prescribed lithium (the drug of choice for bipolar patients), Desyryl (an antidepressant) and Klonipon (an anti-anxiety drug). The three together would turn my rollercoaster into a straight road of wellness. BUT, there was one small detail that was overlooked in the conversation with my physichiatrist. That was the fact that there was NO cure. These medications, which have now changed over the years, had one purpose and that was to aide in shifting moods. This did not mean I would never become manic or depressed again.

It has now been nearly eleven years since that hospitalization. My medications have been changed so many times that I have literally lost track. Three suicide attempts and four hospitalizations later the doctors seem to have found what works. In a study began nearly ten years ago, scientists have discovered that anti-seizure medications are a wonderful replacement for Lithium. I currently take 1000 mg of Tegretol, 3 mg of Klonipon, and 50 mg of Siniquin per day. This combination of medications does keep me very tired, but I can now function in society as well as the average person.

Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder

my moods change very quickly and dramatically. the DSM IV criteria for rapid cycling calls for cycling 4 or more times per year. i cycle that much in a week, if not in a day. sometimes i go for short periods when i'm not constantly cycling, but it's rare. beside medication, the thing that has helped me the most is keeping track of my moods. i write a journal daily and i use it to track my moods based on the following scale: i rate my moods on a scale of -10 to +10, with 0 being "normal." -8 to -10 means i should be hospitalized, because by -8 i am suicidal, and -10 is the point at which i am ready to die. +8 to +10 are also problems because at +8 my sleep becomes disturbed and by +10 i'm absolutely delusional. for example, today i've already gone from 1 to -4 to 3 to 5. unfortunately for me, selecting medications for me is difficult because i've tried nearly everything. i am currently taking neurontin and tegretol for mood stabilizers. i am also on zyprexa, cogentin, zoloft, and klonopin. sometimes i feel sorry for myself and wonder why i had to develop bipolar disorder. it's something that i've had to accept, and to be honest i'm still struggling with acceptance. i don't like taking medication because it makes me feel drugged and slow. it's hard to strike a balance between the medications and the disease. i feel that i'm finally on the right amount of medication. even though i still cycle constantly, the mood swings aren't as intense and it's certainly not as bad as when i'm not taking any medication.

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