I was recently diagnosed with bipolar mood disorder – a mental illness that has forced me to change my life.
When you look at me, I seem a normal, happy person with an energetic zest for life. What I don’t show you is that beneath the smiles, the laughter and seemingly normal conversation I feel a wreck, struggling to make it through the day, any day. You see, I have the mental illness known as bipolar disorder.
Being Diagnosed with a Mental Illness
Now that I know what I have, I look back at my life and realise I have had it for many years. The telltale signs of constant depression interspersed with ecstatic moods have always been there. I thought it was normal. Everyone felt sad sometimes and then they felt happy again.
It was part of life, I reasoned, until one seriously bad bout of depression where I had been driving to go grocery shopping. I just couldn’t stop crying and when I arrived at the shops I was frightened to get out of the car. I knew there was something wrong. A friend referred me to a psychiatrist who examined me, prodding through my life and thought processes, questioning my reactions and ideas and he told me I had bipolar mood disorder.
My Mind is affected
I laugh now when I think back to how my mother always complained I was moody. And yet, mental illness is not cause for laughter. It’s frightening and there are many women and men in the country who suffer mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually as a result of a mental illness, but are too afraid to say something. The response, almost always, is ‘just get over it’. Honestly, I believe that people are just scared and believe if you have a mental illness you’re mad. It’s not that simple.
Bipolar mood disorder is a mental illness that affects your state of mind where you move from one extreme to the other – ecstasy then profound sadness. Winston Churchill, a bipolar candidate, referred to his depressive state as the ‘black dog’. He wasn’t the only one. A long list of well known people, past and present, such as Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Vincent van Gogh, rapper DMX have or had the disorder.
The Causes of Bipolar
I don’t know how I came to be bipolar. I often wonder if I have always had the bipolar gene which became activated in my teenage years. The South African Depression and Anxiety Group (SADAG) state that ‘the exact cause of manic depression is not known, but it is believed to be a combination of biochemical, genetic and psychological factors.’
In many families, especially black families, being depressed is not really a cause for concern. It’s not they care little for the matter, but rather with so many other more pertinent issues to mull over there really is no time to press through issues of mental disability. It has thus made it rather hard to try and work out if my own illness is the consequence of a genetic factor. In my own family, my parents are not sure how to deal with the diagnosis.
I know that psychologically I have had a lot to deal with over the last few years and I have often wondered if the gene was triggered when I lost the stability of my life – when my relationship with the love of my life ended, or when I hit the end of my planned career path, or when I found myself in the middle of a family feud.
Chemical Imbalance in My Brain
I wish I could go into the recesses of my brain and remix the chemicals that are obviously not in balance and my psychiatrist tells me that going on medication would definitely be a step in the right direction, but I have been frightened by how my addictive personality would deal with drugs. Just the other day I watched the movie AntiChrist by Lars von Trier, which in itself is a controversial movie, written and directed by a man who is a victim of depression and anxiety attacks and I was unmoved by the raw darkness that played itself out in the film.
A fox disemboweling itself, a woman cutting her own clitoris, a man strangling his wife to death. I watched these scenes with a vague interest knowing that the darkness that persisted in them matched my own. I am not a psychopath, but I guess in my own crazy way I understand the pain that drives these manic characters to the depths of despair.
Falling Apart At Last
My own meltdown has been gradual and has not even begun to come to an end. It has only hit me after months of being diagnosed that I will live with this illness for the rest of my life. SADAG say that ‘Manic depression is common – affecting about 1% of the population. Men and women are equally affected. While the disorder has been seen in children, the usual age of onset is late adolescence and early adulthood.’ That means that approximately 470 000 people in
There are typically five types of bipolar mood disorder ranging from equal manic and depressive states to proportionately higher depressive states, rapid cycling between moods to ‘soft’ bipolar.
Reaching the Heights of Happiness
I have always been an emotionally introverted person, hiding my deepest feelings to myself, while silently drawn to the dark characters I met when I read novels or watched movies. And yet, conversely, I loved being with people and partying up a storm. My highs while egomaniacal are nothing to what others go through. In a manic state, people can go for days without sleep, work excessively, dream even bigger, spend money frivolously and believe in a way that life cannot continue without their existence.
I have had my moments too, like the time I had gone out with friends at university and when everyone had gone home, I decided to stay behind and chat with two guys I had met. Many drinks later, without a sense of foreboding or danger I went home with these two strangers and although there was no sex, I am always amazed that I even went to a strange home with two men whom I didn’t know and spent the night.
At times, I do believe that life is an amazing journey and I feel like I could do it all. I feel that if I bought a lotto ticket I would win or that it wouldn’t matter if I took my last savings and spent them on a handbag or shoes or tonnes of books and music. I’ve even just gotten in my car without telling a soul and driven for hundreds of kilometres to end up in a town I don’t know and just spent the night, again without a sense of caution.
Crashing Down
When I am high, it’s exhausting. I can barely sleep so caught up in my own excitement, filled with grandiose ideas and plans, believing I have the key to life’s secrets. But as my psychiatrist says, the manic phase is the dangerous part because at some point I will crash and I do. It’s like the screeching clash of metal whose sound echoes for miles around.
I cry. My whole system closes in on itself and the rage abounds. The other day I almost hit a man in a Porsche just because he flashed his lights at me. Sometimes all I can manage is to lock myself in my home and be alone. I have learned to keep away from people when I am down because anyone can become the focus of my self-hatred and anger. Other times, the pain is so much that I want to combust and die. There’ll be times I will be driving on the highway and I will have fantasies of halting the car, turning it around to face oncoming traffic just so I don’t have to live with the pain anymore.
I have even planned my own suicide right to the last detail. I cannot stand those dark moments. It’s debilitating and the worst part is you feel so alone because no one seems to understand that you’re shaking and screaming within yourself all the time.
Living with a Mental Illness
I don’t wish this on anyone. At first I thought I could live without the medication, but eventually I had to take something, just to help me sleep and calm me when the wires crisscrossed. There is no cure for bipolar mood disorder, but medication certainly has a positive role to play. I have had to cut down on alcohol, which makes me aggressive and even more depressed. I know I will never have a normal relationship as 90% of marriages with bipolar sufferers end in divorce.
I am just a woman with a mental illness and I feel for my family and friends. I know it cannot be easy being around me. You can imagine how it is to be with myself all the time. And yet, that doesn’t mean I do not love myself. I have great compassion for the person I am and what I go through. As part of my healing, I am making some life changes that will allow me to live with this illness. It’s not easy, but it’s the best I can do, one day at a time.
