Four years ago when I was diagnosed with depression and then bipolar disorder, the clouds parted and my life finally made sense. I did a timeline of my life with my therapist and bingo, there it was — my alcoholism, depression and mania had been singing in perfect harmony as I plowed through the chaos that I had called my life.
The amazing thing is how far back we were able to trace the illnesses. I started swimming competitively when I was 7. I swam hard and fast. I liked the way it made me feel. My coach and parents and teammates cheered me on. Swimming made me feel part of something — and I finally fit in with the other kids. At 14-years-old, I had had enough of swimming back and forth, staring at a black line on the bottom of the pool. I slid into a teenage wasteland and the endorphins stopped working.
I quit swimming and started smoking pot and drinking — my new drugs of choice. My depression got worse and my alcoholism blossomed. I was a blackout drinker from my first drink. At 20 years old, I knew I had a drinking problem. But drugs, nah, I didn’t have a drug problem. So for nearly 10 years I didn’t swallow a drop of alcohol. I took drugs instead, pretty much everyday and often morning, noon and night.
I figured I had licked my alcohol problem, never realizing that I had simply switched my self-medicating drug of choice from alcohol to drugs. During that decade, I married, moved across the country, and divorced. My drug supply dried up and I slipped into a mild depression. Alcohol was much more accessible — and legal — so I hit the bottle. I did not have to work on building my tolerance. I picked up right where I left off — a bottle or two of chardonnay a night, often every night. I was still an endurance drinker. It was like throwing Miracle Grow on my depression.
My 30s were hell. I remarried, had a baby, and went back to work after a 6-week maternity leave. There were some really good times, but by the time my daughter started school I was a mess. Drinking every night and hating myself and my life. I was, well, a bitch. I was sarcastic, passive-aggressive, filled with self-loathing and pity. My marriage ended, and I slid into a major depression.
Then I quit drinking.
The first seven years of my sobriety I kept all the plates in the air doing the single, working mom thing, going to meetings and volunteering to help other alcoholics. Then my parents died, a relationship ended, and my dog died. I started sinking. I went to more meetings. I worked with more alcoholics. I regressed and went back to my first drug of choice: endorphins. I worked out like a crazy woman, hoping the endorphins would give me some relief. I started therapy but I kept sinking.
Finally, in April 2006, I slid into the deepest depression I had ever known. I had not let up on my meetings or volunteer work. I had a regular exercise regime, took vitamins, and ate well. Still, depression consumed me. I succumbed, took off my cape, and agreed to take medications.
Then I did the timeline. I could see the ebb and flow of my depression and my drinking and drugging. Events in my life made sense: The weight loss and gain, insomnia, heart palpitations, stomach problems. I could see that even without alcohol, my depression was still strong. I don’t use my alcoholism or bipolar as an excuse for my behavior. I don’t delude myself into thinking that I only drank to self-medicate my depression and bipolar. I am — at my core — an alcoholic and when I deny myself alcohol, my addiction morphs to another substance or behavior.
I don’t know why the revelations of my timeline gave me so much relief. Everything was and is still the same. I still go to 12-step meetings and therapy. I still take medications. I am still an alcoholic (recovered) and still have depression and bipolar disorder. But my life no longer looks like a bad Jackson Pollock knock-off.
I like what I see today. It makes sense.
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Hats off to you for finding your way. I too am Bipolar, I too live with bouts of depression and I too used at a young age alcohol and pot as a way to cope with feelings I just didn’t understand. I hit rock bottom 5 years ago and scared myself with my near suicidal feelings to get myself properly medicated. Since that time I’ve taken my meds daily, keep away from alcohol accept on a social basis which isn’t often and used the well known creative energy of Bipolar to make my blessing. I now run my own advertising/promotions business, write in my blog and many subjects including Bipolar and volunteer for a Distress Centre to help others where I can. As you know the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is one. Taking the stigma off mental illness will make it much easier for those diagnosed to admit this isn’t a problem but just a way of life that needs nurturing.
You’re a great writer and hope you keep it up, those of us who know about it need others to reassure there is a light at the end of sometimes a very dark tunnel
Peace
I really appreciate your postings. Through your lessons learned, I really see a lot of my own life reflected back to me. I have been in recovery for an addiction for about 18 months now and in so many ways, my life is better than it has ever been. There are more challenges ahead, though, including a prison sentence resulting from my poor choices and behaviors. As I read your story, I start to think about my own timeline. I think about depression and admit that my life may have been even more unmanageable than I have admitted so far. The more I read and learn, the more I’m growing and learning. Thank you for sharing your journey so that others might be able to healed, too.
O.M.G. We’ve pretty much led parallel (sp?) lives! Seriously, it’s uncanny. You just left off the latest part. At age 47, after never suffering with an eating disorder, I “became” bulimic. Like drinking, I was bulimic from the first purge. I’ll be 50 next week. Somehow I thought after the sex addiction, alcoholism, drug addiction, bi-polar and chronic depression I had done it all but NOOOOOO, the eating disorder was just lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike. Be on the lookout!
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