Yesterday was a special day for my city.  Our light rail extended two more stops.  We are now minutes away from my alma mater and an amazing neighborhood that has felt closed off to us.  The energy on the train was electric, we’ve been waiting for many years for this.  Voting and waiting and delays.  The trip there was great.  We went and walked around the cherry blossoms at the university.  Surrounded by people celebrating the brief and beautiful gift of life that the blossoms represent.  All of a sudden, I felt frustrated and irritated.  It felt like a mini bipolar trip.  I’ve experienced this before, when I strive for a goal and reach it; what goes up must go down.  I started thinking about how long we’ve waited for this train. I remember being excited for this in high school, and I blinked and I’m forty.  I then thought about the Buddhist teachings to keep your mood steady during the ups and downs.  Maybe there is a lesson for me there, but it may take a few more runs to absorb it.

My husband and a friend of mine were talking about the changes yesterday, and my husband pulled out “Wear Sunscreen” by Baz Luhrmann for our friend who had not heard it.  That song always gives me a better mood/perspective.  I have always assumed it was Baz that gave the speech, so I googled it.  I had no idea that there was a urban myth that Kurt Vonnegut wrote it, but it was actually a Chicago Tribune article written by a woman named Mary Schmich.  I found her on Facebook and she has less than 2,000 followers.  This small revelation reminded me that, even at 40, I’m learning new things every day.  Facts that I learned in high school and college are actually changing as scientists make new discoveries.  Learning that neurologists are learning we can regrow gray matter blew my mind.  I it is an interesting time to be alive, as I write messages to the wind on an an internet that didn’t exist to me when I was in high school.  I’m listening to a playlist on Spotify of haunting, sad songs that I never would have heard in the day of cassettes and radio.  My favorite sad song “Breathe Me” by Sia is playing taking me back to the end of “Six Feet Under”.  It always brings a tear.  It is reminding me that I dreamt of my mother last night.  I was in a room where I had set all her clothes up in a closet like she was alive again.  I smelled her shirt, sad that her smell was disappearing.  (She died in 2010 – 23 years older than I am now.)

Feeling a mixture of happiness, sadness, and hope.  Also, a strong urge to exercise so I can drop some weight and live more of this adventure.

A GIF that captures some of this feeling:
https://media.giphy.com/media/l2R05moIruMJwWmBy/giphy.gif

Wear Sunscreen

Author: Mary Schmich (https://www.facebook.com/mary.schmich)

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of ’97
Wear sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it
A long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists
Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
Than my own meandering experience, I will dispense this advice now

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind
You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth
Until they’ve faded, but trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back
At photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now
How much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked
You are not as fat as you imagine

Don’t worry about the future
Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing Bubble gum
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindsides you at 4 p.m. On some idle Tuesday
Do one thing every day that scares you

Saying, don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts
Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy
Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind
The race is long and in the end, it’s only with yourself
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults, if you succeed in doing this, tell me how
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t
Get plenty of calcium
Be kind to your knees
You’ll miss them when they’re gone

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t
Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t
Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the ‘Funky Chicken’
On your 75th wedding anniversary
Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much
Or berate yourself either
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can
Don’t be afraid of it or what other people think of it
It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your own living room
Read the directions even if you don’t follow them
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly

Brother and sister together we’ll make it through
Some day a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you’ve been hurting but I’ve been waiting to be there for you
And I’ll be there just helping you out whenever I can

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good
Be nice to your siblings, they’re your best link to your past
And the people most likely to stick with you in the future

Understand that friends come and go
But a precious few, who should hold on

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young
Live in New York City once but leave before it makes you hard
Live in northern California once but leave before it makes you soft

Travel

Accept certain inalienable truths
Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too, will get old
And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young
Prices were reasonable, politicians were noble
And children respected their elders

Respect your elders

Don’t expect anyone else to support you
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse
But you never know when either one might run out

Never mess too much with your hair
Or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85

Be careful whose advice you buy but be patient with those who supply it
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
From the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts
And recycling it for more than it’s worth

But trust me on the sunscreen

Brother and sister together we’ll make it through
Some day a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you’ve been hurting but I’ve been waiting to be there for you
And I’ll be there just helping you out whenever I can

Everybody see it oh yeah yeah

Everybody see it oh yeah
He want you to feel good!

Read more: Baz Luhrmann – Everybody’s Free (to Wear Sunscreen) Lyrics | MetroLyrics

 

 

 

I finally made it to the doctor over a week ago.  She diagnosed me with walking pneumonia.  She prescribed me antiobiotics and a Medrol pack.  She casually mentioned the Medrol can cause insomnia.  Wait, what?!  Nothing leads to mania faster than missing sleep (which I was already losing coughing all night).  She said it doesn’t interact with my lithium or the computer would have flagged it.  I continued to show concern, and she said I could just double my steroid inhaler if I was worried.  When I went home and googled Medrol, I found more sources including research showing the drug can trigger mania.  Well, I opted out of the steroids, and I’m on the mend.  Remaining skeptical at the primary care office is starting to get tiring.  I’m going to restart the search for a psychiatrist.  It occurred to me that trying to convince my PCP to take over my psychotropics was not the best idea.  I remember feeling worried when her MA said she never works with patients on lithium.  That should have been a red flag to keep looking.

 

Sick.  I’ve been on a roller coaster of mild health issues the last few months.  This weekend, I have a nasty cough and am stuffed everywhere.  I’m sick of being sick.   This week is going to be busy at work with a big deadline.  Fingers crossed I’ll feel better tomorrow.

I don’t have any bipolar thoughts today.  Pretty much thinking about how much I take breathing for granted.  Nyquil up and heading to bed early.

 

 

The new Paul Dalio film “Touched by Fire” popped up in my Facebook feed as a suggested post.  The title is from a book by the the first person to show me that someone with bipolar disorder can succeed (Kay Redfield Jamison).  It looks like a beautiful movie that could help people understand mania better.  I will probably watch from the safety of my home.  From the trailers, it looks like it could be very painful.  Having been hospitalized and tied to a table (quick piece of the trailer), I’m pretty sensitive to the idea of reliving these things through film.  I read some complaints that this romanticizes the disorder.  It looks like it represents it well.  I have hope that the director has the disorder and will provide an honest portrayal.  It cannot touch the worst offender in my opinion — Mr. Jones tragically romanticizes the disorder.  He cures himself with the love of his therapist (maybe doctor). I saw it a year after my diagnosis and have tried to forget it.  In an article in the Huffington Post, the director states that he hopes closeted sufferers will hear other people’s thoughts on bipolar disorder and come out.  I’m still very reluctant.  People seem more accepting of an artist with bipolar than an accountant. Madness can feed art, but I’ve never produced better office work when I’m manic.  Before I was diagnosed, my 4.0 exams turned into wild, meandering, nonsense.  My Mom assumed I was on drugs, which incidentally, can assist in producing art, too.  My brother is an amazing artist, and if he shares my disorder, I imagine the manic phases can drive him and open up his brain for even better works.  Depression, too, can bring out some of the most wrenching and beautiful works.  I may be sacrificing art for sanity, but returning to psychotic manias terrifies me enough to stay on the lithium.  I do enjoy art immensely.  I currently live by an art museum, which has been a dream.  I’m drawn to artists in my life, and I take great pleasure in supporting and admiring them.

I was talking to a health coach about losing weight. I brought up that weight loss has always been a struggle, since my father started calling me chunky when I was about 8.  Rationally, I know that when I’m fat he nags me to lose weight and when I lose weight he says things like “if you weren’t my daughter”.  I know I wear my weight as armor.  I did some googling, something that didn’t exist when I was a kid, and found many studies linking abuse and obesity.  My coach asked if I’ve had therapy for it.  I thought back and realized that out of the many therapists I’ve seen most of my issues are outweighed by bipolar disorder.  I’m tempted to find another therapist, but I don’t know if I want to rip off that bandaid.  My mother was abused and kept it secret for most of her life.  I know that isn’t the right answer.  I’d really prefer to read a book instead of drop yet another mask that I wear.  I will probably try that first.  Even with a psych background, I get anxious thinking about seeing a therapist. Where do I find the time? What if we don’t click?

My last post received a wonderfully supportive comment, that in my newness I may have accidentally deleted.  It is a comfort to know that I’m not alone.  It is like the pleasure I get when an amazing and strong person comes out of the bipolar closet.  I still feel like there are disorders that are dinner conversation (depression, anxiety), and then there’s bipolar disorder.  I don’t think people understand psychotic features if they haven’t had them.  I fear I will lose trust I’ve worked so hard to gain (especially at work).When I had my last med check with my PCP, she asked me a couple leading questions, e.g., “you’re doing ok, right?”  She then raved about a NYT magazine article about lithium (recalling facts like they were news to her).  So I read the article, and it was quite easy to empathize until her kidney’s fail, I wouldn’t have minded a trigger alert, Doc.  Kidney damage scares the bejeezus out of me.  She and my Gyn prescribed high doses of ibuprofen 3-4 days a month.  After reading the article she seems more skeptical and suggests surgery.  I feel like this post is also turning into a meandering rant.  It’s late, and sleep is important, so I think I’m just gonna call it.

 

 

 

 

Thankfully, I started feeling better on Tuesday, because this week at work was nonstop.  Learning a new department is stressful but exciting.  I didn’t realize how stagnant work was after doing the same thing for almost ten years.  It is like I was sleep walking, and I’m beginning to wake up.

I read a beautiful book called “How To Relax” by Thich Nhat Hanh.  He talks about having a lazy day to “train ourselves not to be afraid of doing nothing” and ends the thought with a picture of a sloth.  What a great way to put that.  Whenever I have nothing to do, I get anxious.  I feel like I should be doing something constructive.  Then I turn on the TV and watch movies and feel guilty about that.  Meditating has helped me with that anxiety a little.  Giving myself just ten minutes a day to unplug and do nothing.

 

I’ve had a stupid, nagging cold for a couple weeks now.  My hubby has been fighting a nastier chest cold and other medical issues, so it has seemed tiny by comparison. As he heals, I’m more aware of how crappy I feel.  I just feel tired all the time.  I’m not sure what that has to do with bipolar disorder, but it does feel kind of like depression.  I don’t feel motivated to do anything today.  I’m irritated by everything, and I’m not looking forward to starting my new role at work tomorrow.  Well, I feel now like if I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t have anything at all.  I am going to make myself meditate this evening, because I know I need it as much as the cold medicine.  Healing, happy thoughts.