Living with Bipolar

In 2007, I was diagnosed for the second time with Bipolar Disorder and for the first time I accepted it.  Since then, I have become very open about it because I don't want it to have the hold on me that secrets tend to have.  Am sure that if you Google the disorder you can have a concise medical definition and gain somewhat of an understanding of the illness; here you will have personal snippets of what it's like to live with it on a daily basis.  

The death of my brother and the end of a six-year relationship triggered the worst manic phase of my life, thus far.  I would apply for jobs, but couldn't handle the stress and would quit weeks or days after beginning.  During this time I had severe delusions and hallucinations. I abused alcohol and went on spending sprees. I stopped eating and sleeping for weeks.  There came a day when the voices that I was hearing told me to kill myself, but first kill my dog.  I knew that I couldn't kill my dog and that's when I asked for help.  My parents intervened and I got the help I needed. To this day I owe my life to my little, brown wolf, he's my angel.  

For the next year, I was unable to work even though I had just finished my teaching credential program. It hurt me to know that things out of my control could change the course of my life so drastically, but that also helped me understand how people end up on the streets. In fact, statistics show that a large percentage of homeless have mental disorders.  I remember thinking that I wouldn't even be able to hold a simple job cashiering at a store because I felt so unbalanced and insecure.

Through this time my parents and family cared for me, they were my saving grace.  I also sought help within my church community and slowly things began to get better.  I remember one day my mom and I went to five different churches and I spoke to five different priests asking for guidance, finally finding what I needed in a conversation with a priest at Our Lady of El Pilar Parish.  He told me something to the effect that depression comes from focusing too much on self and that it be good for me to start doing things for others. That following Sunday, I signed up to help at Saint Francis Senior Home.  To this day I remember feeling like I had nothing to offer and that day among abandoned ladies who just wanted to be acknowledge, listened to and touched; God used my weak self and showed me how He uses the meek to work His works.

It's been a difficult journey.  I haven't heard voices since then (later I found that the voices were a side effect of two medications) and have been able to get my life back on course.  Today am fully functioning even though I have a tendency for depressive episodes. I found that God really helps me.  He's taught me that feelings are not truths and thus I ignore sadness when I can and live in His joy.  Sometimes it's hard to be social and during those times I have a tendency to be a homebody, but I try not to flake on appointments with others.  I also see my psychiatrist and therapist once every three months. Everyday is a learning experience, but there's always much hope so hang in there if you are struggling with bipolar disorder, with God it will get better....