Well, this morning we are going to deviate from our regularly scheduled journaling programming to reflect a bit on my dually diagnosed state of affairs. I have been diagnosed with two incurable illnesses: alcoholism and bipolar disorder with psychotic features. There is only suggested treatment of these conditions—abstinence from booze and taking medication to keep my bipolar mood swings under control. I’ve been fighting the alcoholism since I first picked up a screwdriver at age 11 or so. The bipolar had its hooks in me for a long time too, though didn’t fully explode on the scene until I tripped the light fantastic in my mid-30s.
While I do not question that I am an alcoholic, my diagnosis as “bipolar” is a more slippery character for me to embrace fully. I mean, while I don’t particularly mind labels, I just have some lingering doubts whether I do indeed fit the average description of bipolar as vaguely outlined in the DSM-5 (or is it 6?). And as I mentioned a few entries back, the jury’s still out whether my psychosis was caused by laced street weed or truly a chemical imbalance in my brain…but if I go down the rabbit hole of trying to resist this bipolar diagnosis and fight the doctors I’m just going to end up in the solitary confinement room with a Diet Coke can, so no, we are not going there.
Anyways, here I find myself, 56 years young, juggling these two, err, “situations” and my strategy I have mastered is to use a 4-legged approach:
1. Medication
2. Talk therapy
3. Friends & Family support
4. ME!
I’ll pontificate on Leg 4 a bit, because most articles on managing mental illness overlook how important it is that you yourself devote as much energy and creativity you can towards managing your disorder. For me it has become a full-time job—albeit a non-paying one. I spend a great deal of time monitoring myself, journaling now when I am able, trying to get what exercise I can, and of course doing my cooking in the kitchen, the one constant that has kept me reasonably stable. And now I’m exploring art projects again, something that requires cognitive skills, my love of history and politics, intelligence, wit, humor, subtlety, humility and tact. Without you, the afflicted, actively engaging in your recovery, there is no way out of the tarry pit of despair. Trust me. I know.
I’ve felt a strong urge for years to help those contending with these dual disorders. My first thought was to write a book, and I actually started writing one years ago, titled “Bipolar Bared” (like this blog). Problem was I was psychotic when I was writing, and although I have the draft saved in a Google Doc, I’m scared to see what I wrote…maybe one day I’ll look at it and pick up where I left off. There is always trying to volunteer in the mental health field, but after this last trip to the looney bin, I’m not so sure I want to be engaging with those in crisis face to face. So I guess for now I’ll just keep working on myself and wait to see what comes across my path.
I may be able to entertain some thoughts of taking a vacation with Michael this year…things will depend on Sir Little Legs, who is really slowing down and I fear we will lose him this year. I guess I have no problem staying put in Columbus until he goes. But lately I’ve been dreaming about going to New York to see the opera, catch a jazz show, of course eat, walk Central Park, and yes, find a hat shop! I also want to go to Washington D.C. and show Michael all the places I lived and worked when I was there. I’d love to stay at Hotel Washington or The Mayflower.
So I guess my parting thought today is to keep dreaming, dreams do come true. Have a wonderful day all.
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