chemistry

I used to see stars when he kissed me
Fly soaring through a strange new world
He kissed me like he needed me to breathe
And I thought I would never let him go
But he left and broke my heart
I’m left with memories of him
And the mistletoe he used to bring
But your kisses don’t send me anywhere
Sparks aren’t flying when we touch
You reach for me and all I feel is affection
Shouldn’t there be more to this?
ber being that elated. I was bursting with ideas and dreams, rushing my words and thoughts into jumbled sentences. Jenny saw this not as a victory over the depression, but what it truly was – hypomania. She changed my diagnosis from depression to bipolar II disorder and my medication from Lexapro to Lamictal. Lamictal, also known as lamotrigine, is used to treat epilepsy and bipolar disorder.

My mother is a big support, trying to figure out what it means for me to be bipolar. She and I have read different books and accounts about the disorder. In therapy, Jenny watches my moods from an objective point of view and has helped me define what is bipolar and what is me. We also talk about high school and when symptoms of the bipolar disorder really started. Incredibly, I can trace the early symptoms of strange sleeping habits, anhedonia and psychache to when I was about five years old. The symptoms slowly but surely built as I got older, until they climaxed at college.

It has been a little over a year since I was diagnosed and I still struggle with learning what it means to be bipolar. The hardest part for me now, is explaining to people about my disorder. They want to know why I’m not in college right away and the bipolar disorder has a lot to do with it. There is a certain stigma that comes with the word bipolar. That stigma makes it hard to admit I have bipolar disorder. Some believe that depression resulted from a character flaw or weakness, and people who are depressed could just snap out of it if they tried hard enough. Being treated for a psychiatric disorder means you have in some way “failed.” I had a friend who wanted me to just think and react like a normal person. He became very frustrated with me when he realized I would never be normal. There is also a Christian idea out there that if you believe enough, God will take this illness away. “After all,” they claim. “Its really only in your mind.” These attitudes and beliefs make it difficult to tell people about being bipolar.

Another thing that makes bipolar disorder difficult to describe and discuss is the long list of symptoms. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders – Fourth Edition (DSM-IV) helps doctors diagnose various mental disorders. The list of different symptoms in the DSM-IV for bipolar II disorder is lengthy and criss-crosses with other forms of bipolar disorder. There is no blood test, or proof-positive way to diagnose bipolar disorder, or any mental illness. Each person diagnosed with bipolar disorder has different symptoms and different ways those symptoms come out.

My hypomania starts with the desire and action of buying things I can’t afford and don’t need, like more CDs and DVDs. It expands until I’m deciding to go away to school and attempt various careers, for example a scientist at NASA or a cryptologist at the NSA. I plan that while I’m working there, I will also be raising a family and helping the world at large to understand what being bipolar means. After that, I plan to become the first woman president. My dreams are bigger than the stars, but in reality they won’t happen.

My depression usually starts coming out in my writing, like this excerpt from my diary.

I want to cry
And let everything out
In silent screams
And painful breaths
But the lid on this pot
Has been sealed shut
And I can’t seem to open it
I know the longer I wait
The more explosive and dangerous
The reaction will be
And the less reality it will need
To set off the ticking bomb
Soon all I will need
Is a tiny drop of reality
To send me spinning into oblivion
~ Excerpt from 3/28/2004 Diary Entry

The depression builds until I can find pleasure in nothing that I used to love. All that I am left with is this immense pain inside. It is not often I feel such intense psychache, but when I do, I look for a release. By cutting, the pain inside of me is breaking free. Eventually, I reach that point of lethality – where the only way to stop the pain is to kill myself.

“I had every intention of only avoiding further pain which I knew I was inevitably going to experience.”
~ suicide note

Since I’ve been diagnosed, I am more aware of my relationships with other people and how I interact with them. I realize now that when I start becoming irritable, it probably means there is a change coming. If I start to pick a fight with a friend, I can now pull back and save myself and them from the pain of an argument. I also know that I usually do not react to situations like a “normal” person would. My high school band teacher’s actions have had more affect on me than most people realize. It has been almost 3 years since he was arrested and convicted. Yet his betrayal still haunts me and affects my decision to go back into music. I have lost relationships because my friends couldn’t understand why I couldn’t just let the whole issue go. His betrayal was an influence on the beginning of my worst depression. Its something I will never be able to forget. People who don’t understand bipolar disorder and my personal struggle sometimes don’t understand why I can’t just “will it away.” They see me as weak, lazy, or not giving it enough effort. When I experience those reactions, it makes me wary to tell other people that I have bipolar disorder. I don’t want them to think that I am trying to find an easy way out of dealing with life, because its not true. I’m trying to find a way to deal with life, living with bipolar disorder.

Every so often, I’ll take myself off my medication. I might be feeling really great and believe I don’t need the medicine anymore, which is actually a sign of mania setting in. Another reason is that every time I take the pills, I’m reminded than I’m not okay. It’s a daily reminder that there is something wrong with me.

“Schubert was crazy. I wonder if you have to be crazy to make something so beautiful.”
~ Josh Lyman from the West Wing

I know this comment was made in the scene for character purpose and has no real bearing on the way I took it. Still it perfectly explains my biggest fear. I’m afraid that I’m such a good musician because I’m bipolar. Or vice versa – I’m bipolar because I’m such a good musician. This idea that my music and my bipolarism could be somehow mutually dependent terrifies me. Various musicians and artists are believed to have been bipolar, like Tim Burton, Charles Dickens, Leo Tolstoy, Hector Berlioz, Gustav Mahler and Tom Waits to name a few. That’s why I’m constantly running scared from my music. Somehow I think if I stop playing, my bipolarism will go away, or if my bipolarism goes away, I won’t be able to play. Neither scenario is true because neither of my music or my bipolarism is ever going to go away forever. I’m a musician and I’m bipolar. When I’m at what they call a “baseline personality” I’m normal, so to speak. At that point, my playing is average. It’s good, but nothing special. When I’m outside that baseline, my playing is extraordinary and phenomenal. So when I’m on my medication, the baseline is about where I am. And I can’t play. So I go off them, veer off my baseline personality and I’m amazing. The danger is I become suicidal. People think I’m being selfish and stupid for not sharing my gift, my musical talent.

I may have been diagnosed over a year ago, and I may be on my medication now, but all that doesn’t guarantee I’ve figured out how to deal with this strange disorder. A symptom of bipolar depression is the feeling of being alone with no one to understand you. This especially haunts me as I just try to find a way to live through another week. I’ve come to learn and accept that I can’t find the perfect cure or drug to make the rest of my life normal. Every day is another battle, each hour is a new struggle. Some days are easier than others, but they all have their challenges. I’m slowly making my way through them.