I didn’t know what to do. It felt like I was on a violent roller coaster with no way to get off, and it went on for months on end. The euphoric highs were always great; I got extremely productive, had all the energy in the world, and it felt like I could do anything I wanted. But the highs always eventually collapsed and gave way to despairing lows in which I didn’t want to exist anymore, and it was a cycle I couldn’t get out of no matter how hard I tried. It was constant and exhausting, and interfering with even the small aspects of daily life.
Finally, I got to the point where I knew I needed help. I made the call to schedule my first appointment with a therapist, and, knowing that some people have really difficult experiences trying to find the right one, I’m very grateful that from the time we first started meeting, it was a really great match and positive experience. For the past year and a half, therapy (and medication) has changed my life for the better. It has provided me with invaluable support and skills I didn’t have before – but that doesn’t mean navigating bipolar disorder isn’t still an ongoing journey.
For me, I experience what is called “hypomania”, which is a less severe version that what they call full-blown “mania” of bipolar. Hypomania involves an elevated mood, a whole lot of energy, and increased self-esteem. I’ve done some pretty stupid things before in the throes of a high, like getting pulled over for driving 35 miles over the speed limit in the city. It’s very enjoyable for the most part – though, for me, when it peaks, it evolves into a good deal of agitation and stress. And now, having experienced it enough, I know that what goes up must come down; it always gives way to a transition into depression.
Depression takes all the joy out of everything, makes you feel worthless, and makes life feel meaningless. I get very tired, so much so that it’s hard to do even the small things. Everything feels impossible, whether it’s getting out of bed, or putting effort into doing things I previously enjoyed, or spending time with people I care about. It makes me want to be alone, to isolate away from everyone, which often gives me ample time to spiral more and puts me in an even worse headspace.
But as challenging as bipolar disorder is, I have come to find that as with most struggles, there is a lot of good that has come out of it as well. I have not only found some amazing books and resources to help me along my journey, but I have learned how to be more open and honest, have learned exponentially more about myself, and have grown closer to my family and my church community than I ever was before.
Bipolar disorder is difficult. I’m still learning every day – and one of the important things I have learned over the past year and a half is that it is nothing to be afraid of, whether you yourself live with it or someone you love. And it is manageable – it just takes time and hard work to figure out how to navigate.
the fire journey 