For a couple of decades, I have lived a decent life although I was diagnosed as a manic-depressive and commanded to take a handful of pills every day. I have not taken those pills in years. Accepting my bipolar nature was the key that gave me freedom.
The medications changed me into a vegetable. When I went to AA, recovering alcoholics taught me acceptance. After I accepted myself and the world, I started to win daily battles with my wild mood swings.
My bipolar highs resembled my highs from alcohol and other drugs. Both certain combinations of drugs and the manic phase of my mental illness, made me feel confident and on top of the world. I loved those feelings. I did not want to give them up. Somehow, I came to expect total happiness all the time. Once I experienced the high of my illness, everyday life was unacceptable. I just did not want to be an average human being with everyday problems. I wanted to dream great dreams, invent great machines, write great books, and enjoy continuous adulation from the world. I believed I was Jesus Christ, but the medications turned me into a regular guy. What a bummer.
For years I obediently swallowed the pills, but patiently waited for a return to the way I had felt before the doctors dragged me down to earth. Eventually, my attitude changed because of my attendance at AA and Recovery, Inc. meetings. Recovery, Inc. is a self-help organization for nervous people. Early on, I noticed that the higher I got one day, the lower I felt a day or so later. I loved feeling high, but I hated the lows. After many years, my extreme mood swings moderated.
When I had been in AA a few years and had practiced the tools from Recovery, Inc., I realized I had gained a measure of acceptance. I knew that it was my nature to have mood swings, but I had acquired the capacity to function whether I was high or low. I actually did not care if I went into depression because I knew how to carry on with life despite being in a low mood. I took a long range view of my moods; overall I experience a life as good as anyone else. Although I may not get too much done at certain times; at others times, I am on fire with energy. Today, I accept that on certain days it is necessary for me to just sit around , do little, take a break. I do not beat up on myself for needing rest. It seems that my nervous system runs to extremes--too fast or too slow. To function in our society, I exerted a certain discipline on myself. Tools from Recovery, Inc. allowed me to manage my mood swings. Before I could understand and apply these tools, I had to accept that my brain needed to be controlled.
This acceptance came after a major depression. It was a depression in which each day I put off going back to a mental hospital one day at a time. I forced myself out of bed. I forced myself to go to work. For months I had absolutely no desire to live. I moved my muscles. I did not project; I just did the task in front of me. I tried to be average in everything I did. I gave up trying to be a superstar. I did that for months. Ultimately, the depression passed. I had held on to my job. I had carried out all the responsibilities in my life one day at a time. Since I did all of this without meds, I knew that I had beat my demons. This last depression was over twenty years ago. I still sometimes have anxiety, worry, and sleepless nights, but I face life on my own two feet without using pills as a crutch.
In AA they told me I had a thinking disease. I jump to conclusions. I compare myself to others. I especially compare my insides to the outsides of others. In an instant I can sink into self-pity. I had to observe the whole picture. I was only seeing what I wanted to see. Just about everyone has or will have big problems. Some have major physical problems like diabetes or gross physical deformities. Some are blind. Some endure physical, mental, emotional, or sexual abuse during their entire childhoods. Some have pretty good lives, but they do not live long. Perhaps, parents who have a child die at a young age undergo the greatest suffering. When I accepted that many others suffered at least as much as I did, I was able to stop blaming God for giving me a mood disorder.
Much of my suffering was from the stigma of mental illness. When someone commits some horrific crime, the press usually work into the story that he was a former mental patient. Having an MA in biology, I appreciate that the brain is just other organ. I do not have a bad liver or a bad heart. My problem is my brain. But, it is just another organ. My life is full today. I do not need to hang around people who are prejudiced about mental illness. I have found people who love me as I am.
Our world is a better place because of mentally ill people. Ted Turner, astronaut Buzz Aldrin, movie director Francis Ford Coppola, Beach Boys musician Brian Wilson, and martial-artist Jean-Claude Van-Damme have all experienced bipolar disorder. Sheryl Crow, Dave Matthews, and Alanis Morissette, musicians I enjoyed at Woodstock 99, have all suffered from depression. Even though they were plagued with serious depression; General George Patton, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Winston Churchill did great things. Perhaps millions have been spared years of suffering because of Bill Wilson, the co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous. Bill Wilson wrote all the major books of the AA fellowship, some he wrote while in a depression. At least one author has stated that our world might still be in the Dark Ages were it not for a handful of people who were labeled crazy.
My life has been full even though I am not medicated for bipolar depression. I have earned degrees, traveled extensively, raised a family, and been presented with many awards from my community, place of work, and college alma mater. I have earned a black belt in the martial arts and have completed many 26.2 mile marathons. Of course the marathons came after I had worked off the hundred pounds that medication caused me to gain.
Today I am aware of advantages and disadvantages to all life events. A bipolar high feels great, but it often causes major relationship and financial difficulties. When high, I lost patience with people and with details. I used to come up with a lifetime worth of dreams and plans all in a few days or weeks. Worst of all, the highs sooner or later cycle into lows. The lows sometimes end with suicide.
With some control and focus a bipolar can initiate a major social movement. We can get people excited with our energy, vision, and enthusiasm. Our intense thinking can produce creative solutions. Our single-minded, obsessivness can get things done. One big problem I have when high is that I just want to sit around thinking and talking. I prefer to not get dirty with details; I like to talk and speculate about alternative universes. However, people do not take you serious unless you turn thoughts into reality. I have found that talk is cheap, real cheap. One has to establish credibility by accomplishing goals and/or making lots of money. So, one has to plan, organize, then go do it.
When I accepted myself, bipolar and all, I had to accept treatment for my disorder. For a few years, I had to take medication. Later, I had to force myself to take care of myself. AA says not to get too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. We call that HALT. I had to force myself to eat and to rest. When I can not sleep, I just lay there getting whatever rest I can. I had to control my impulses which wanted me to go off in many different directions working on my projects. Exercise such as jogging 5 to 10 miles always fixed my mood and always made my thoughts clear. I have learned that I can not control thoughts that flood through my brain, but I can control my muscles. I had to study various ideas of dealing with depression. I had to learn how to deal with depression when I was not depressed. When I am depressed I do not have the energy to search for depression remedies.
I read early on that manic-depressives lack insight. For me this was true. AA taught me about prayer and mediation. I had to search out my wants, values, dreams, and fears. I had to examine my thinking patterns and my attitudes. Recovery, Inc. taught me to strive to be average. This support group also taught me to pat myself on the back instead of depending on others for praise. A major component of my highs was the illusion that my project was going to save the earth and make me a great hero. When I made it a habit of praising myself for my efforts, I did not have such a need to save the world.
I am writing this to give others hope. Maybe there are others like me who could not accept help from doctors with their chemistry and their theories. I am writing from my experience, not theory.