The point of this article is to demonstrate that even after years of apparent failure, medication should not be abandoned as a potential treatment option.

I started recognizing that something wasn’t quite “right” with my mental health extremely early in my life, perhaps even as early as elementary school, but like most people I put off seeking treatment for a long time. To be fair, the symptoms didn’t really begin to disrupt my life until college, and I (as well as most people around me) was under the impression that a bit of emotional turbulence is to be expected in childhood/adolescence (true to a degree, but dangerous to assume the level that is considered “healthy”).

Anyway, that is another story for another time, but the point is that my issues were somewhat advanced by the time I received treatment, and I urge anyone who is “iffy” about their psychological health to confer with a professional (psychiatrist, doctor, psychologist, counselor, etc.) as soon as possible. It could make a world of difference.

I started taking Paxil in 2001 after being diagnosed with major depressive disorder by the head college counselor, and thus began a six-year battle that would have (and has) turned many people completely against psychopharmacology. The underlying issue was a combination of misdiagnosis and the resultant prescription of an inappropriate (and ultimately harmful) medication.

Bipolar disorder of any type does not mix well with anti-depressants when they are taken alone. The combination can result in a number of complications, most notably an increase in the frequency and intensity of mixed states (some of them being arguably psychotic). I know I did not consciously recognize a connection between the increased symptoms and Paxil at the time, but after several serious incidents between starting the medication and 2004, something within me was compelled to end the treatment.

As I came to learn, ending any treatment without a doctor’s consultation is a horrible idea.

The withdrawal from Paxil was horrifying; there is really no other way to explain it. Disrupted sleep, hallucinations, delusions, feelings of electricity shooting throughout my head, uncontrollable shaking, and constant discomfort are just a few of the symptoms that I can remember. This is another good reason to have a doctor guide any medication changes; they can provide you with a researched weaning method that is likely to reduce or eliminate most symptoms.

The withdrawal lasted about two weeks, but it was not the end of my history with Paxil. Over the next three years I was on and off the drug several times, cycling between drug-induced mixed states, intense withdrawal, and the hypomania/depression that eventually re-surged without being treated.

In 2007, after several months without medication, I switched to Cipralex. The results were promising at first, but the drug eventually proved to be not much better than Paxil. However, this time I was finally smart enough to stay on the treatment until I could change it with the help of a professional.

It wasn’t until September of 2010 that I finally sought the help of a psychiatrist, and after a re-diagnosis of bipolar type II disorder and a couple of months tweaking my medication, I finally started to feel the symptoms receding. I am currently taking four different types of medication; two anti-depressants and two mood stabilizers (one is optional or “take it when you need it”). I’m happy to report that I’m currently symptom-free and operating similar to a “normal” person, or whatever the benchmark is supposed to be, and I am confident that the altered treatment is a large contributor to my new found balance.

Of course, the knowledge of a proper diagnosis as well as many other life factors also played a significant role in my recovery. Medication is not a magic fix, but it is certainly a valid component in the multifaceted treatment plans that are implemented for many psychological disorders.

Lots of you have experienced the hell that can result from unsuccessful treatment with drugs just as I have, and scores of others may be putting off treatment all together because of the stories, but it’s crucial to remember that you’ll never know if there is something out there to help you if you don’t try and keep trying.

If you’re considering stopping treatment then please speak with a professional and let them know your concerns, they can at least help you with a withdrawal plan.

Good vibes all,

Steven

From my experiences with the ups and downs of bipolar type II disorder, I can say that it is disturbingly easy to completely lose self-confidence and drive for no apparent reason, even when the definitive symptoms of depression and hypomania are under successful treatment (knock on wood).

While this remaining instability certainly poses a challenge, it is not insurmountable.

This is the nature of my particular affliction; without warning I can change from having the confidence of a world-conqueror to the diffidence (I just learned that word at this moment) of an abused dog. Of course, the underlying issue is the disorder itself, but even with that realization and comprehension of the falsity that fuels the feeling, it can seem like a massive undertaking to “right the ship.”

I know that I have numerous skills and can accomplish many things, but I often feel an overwhelming sense of impending failure that can easily lead to the “why bother” attitude.

The rational belief in ability vs. an irrational lack of confidence scenario is representative of a cognitive dissonance, which is a concept that is extremely common in psychology. Basically, when one aspect of our cognition conflicts with another, turmoil can arise until something has to “give.” Too often, the direction of change is toward submission and retreat. This is where tenacity can become your best defense against the unfounded anticipation of failure. Granted, determination may not be in everyone’s nature, but it can certainly be a chosen addition to any personality. Perseverance is not complicated. In order to have resolve, you simply need to keep going.

Choosing to be tenacious in everything I do may prove to be the best decision I have ever made. Success is consistently achieved solely by continuing the charge forward, despite any amount of psychological adversity. The accomplishment is not validated by what is gained, but instead by the fact that I choose to continue working toward my goals.

The choice to be tenacious overrides any irrational feelings of incompetence, as they are no longer relevant in the evaluation of progress in my life. The only thing that matters now is “how do I move forward?”

Good vibes to you all,

Steven

Boxer photo available from Shutterstock.

I was not taken back by the information alone, since self-esteem disruptions and mood disorders are undeniably linked, but I was instead blown away by the sudden realization that I had been completely neglectful of my own esteem for a considerable amount of time.

I can trace this problem to when I first began to understand the effects of the various episodes associated with bipolar type II disorder (about a year ago). It became clear that depression was more disruptive to my productivity than hypomania so I convinced myself to accept the limitations posed by the disorder and to take advantage of any operational time (when level or sometimes when hypomanic) that was available.

While I don’t believe that this was a poor strategy in theory, I do feel that it became doomed to collapse when I failed to remember that my actions and abilities are more than simply the result of a disorder. I had managed to attribute all of my achievements to hypomania while still holding myself personally accountable for any negative experiences. It was a lose-lose situation that almost resulted in my complete withdrawal from the workforce and potentially society as a whole.

I’m lucky to have a fantastic psychiatrist, and I can’t stress enough that my journey would have likely gone over “the edge” if not for his help. He helped me remember that I am a very capable human being with lots of potential, and gave me the boost I needed to begin rebuilding my self-esteem.

Now it’s my focus to maintain the appropriate perspective and to give myself credit where credit is due. It’s easy to let mental health issues dominate our esteem and confidence without realizing it, so becoming aware can be viewed as an accomplishment in its self. Best of luck to anyone in a similar situation, and remember to respect yourself, you deserve it.

Good vibes,

Steven

Winner kid photo available from Shutterstock.

Apparently there’s a strong seasonal component to the expression of my bipolar type II. This isn’t very surprising, as I’ve suspected that the influence of the seasons had been strong for many years (plus, seasonal symptoms are relatively common in several mood disorders), but last year I paid more attention to the way that my symptoms changed.

Beginning in October I started to become regularly hypomanic. I had taken a writing job of questionable social worth (writing academic papers for profiting websites) and I felt pressed to work as much as possible to make the most of the situation. Hindsight being 20/20, I can say that the better choice would have been to regulate the hypomania instead of feeding it (I even wrote a blog on the topic, d’oh). I suspect that my work obsession was a direct contributor to the psychological crash that followed.

As the shortest days of the year approached (ones with the least sunlight, near the end of December) I began to experience periods of depression and low energy, increasing in severity as the sunlight became scarcer. I was completely sapped by the New Year and experienced long periods of depressive symptoms.

January and February proved to be the worst months, with indications of both hypomania and depression becoming less frequent through March. Today I feel “normal” and I expect that the months ahead will be less of a challenge (knock on wood).

Approaching this matter as a learning experience helped me to navigate these changes in a relatively controlled manner, and I feel that I will be better prepared to deal with future “dark” seasons. I’ve also unveiled some other factors that contributed to my situation and learned that my search for a career cannot conflict with my morals.

In other words, I need to “believe in” the services that I provide for any potential employer and their clients. The particular writing gig that I had was not something that I felt was beneficial to anyone but those who made money from it (students were almost certainly paying for these papers to claim as their own). I would eventually cease writing for this purpose after realizing the toll it was taking on me.

This environmental/ideological factor combined with the season to make for a doozy of a downer, but I’m happy to say that this past “dark” season was undeniably better on a psychological level than it had been in any year of recent memory. If this trend continues then I’m in for a fantastic “bright” season. I hope it’s the same for you.

Good vibes,

Steven

Dark forest photo available from Shutterstock.

As I’ve come to see it, dealing with anyone who has a mental illness can be quite difficult, but the truth of it is that you can’t truly understand it without being afflicted yourself. Ok, you may say “that’s a given,” but I doubt many people can grasp the gravity of the situation. This fundamental lack of understanding leaves me with a permanent disconnect from the majority perspective. People may as well be expected to learn how to juggle with eels if they are expected to be able to understand all the nuances of my affliction or others. 

This isn’t an excuse for people to get away with being ignorant of mental illness and alternate perspectives, but it is a mechanism to deal with the eventual reality that many of us face involving the temporary absence of friends and/or family members. It’s also something to consider when you inevitably face a situation of conflict based in the misunderstanding of your condition.

For example, I have a very difficult time predicting when I will be fit for social engagements. It’s one of the touchiest subjects with me, because my mood is so volatile (most of the time) that I will not know if I can participate in some activity until the day of (or sometimes hour of) the endeavor. As often as this becomes an issue, and as much as I explain it, I have found that virtually no one could come to understand my perspective.

I am now willing to accept this issue of misunderstanding and deal with problems as they arise, but I have recently had an experience that has given me hope. My girlfriend and I were supposed to attend a Halloween related event this past weekend. She is a huge fan of the day and the activity, so we both really wanted me to be there. I was all for it, but when the day finally came, I felt too unbalanced to participate. In every other situation I would have been facing a fight, or at least some disappointment.

However, this time it was not the case, as my amazing girlfriend smiled sincerely and told me she understood! This was coming from someone who is not mentally afflicted, and while I doubt she meant it literally (she couldn’t have) I know for a fact that she understood it on the level that mattered. She knew it would hurt, and she wasn’t about to force me into a painful situation. So there you have it, there is hope for comprehension after all, but I’ll warn you now that she’s one in a million.

Good vibes and much love,

Steven

Photo by Sadie Hernandez, available under a Creative Commons attribution license.

Sometimes, the charge of energy that comes with my hypomanic episodes is so strong that I forget that I need rest in order to operate. While I sometimes find this aspect to be a welcomed influence (for example, when I’m cramming to meet a deadline), most of the time it leads to a zombie-like state where I continue to operate without full comprehension of my actions, which can cause trouble. In a worst-case scenario, the energy drain leads directly to a depressive breakdown.

It can be very difficult to manage my time due to the variation in my moods. I get used to producing as much as possible during my clear and/or slightly hypomanic states. These are the only periods in which I am capable of being an effective worker, which translates to being the only times I can earn money (the green devil that I despise).

Usually my moods change so often that I don’t get the chance to “burn out” before I become either too hypomanic to function properly, or depressed and without any energy. In a way these swings act as safeguards so that I don’t overwork myself (a minor positive to the plethora of negatives) but also cause me to “let my guard down” when it comes to over-stretching myself, and so I had not been aware of the fact that, from time to time, I will work myself into psychological vulnerability.

I’m lucky to have noticed this, and I’m now attempting to be more aware of the pressure that I’m putting on myself when I feel “functional.” I can’t spend all of my “able time” working and expect to have no negative psychological effects. However, it would also seem that, since I’m reaching burnout more often, then I might be functional more often than in the past (fingers crossed). It’s also possible that I’m not recognizing more severe bouts of hypomania and I just continue to work through it, but I prefer the more optimistic option.

Good vibes,

Steven

 
Photo by Steve and Jemma Copley, available under a Creative Commons attribution license.

For the sake of this discussion I’ll assume that the accepted level of productivity in this society is in the range of a 40-hour workweek. To most people that may seem like a reasonable expectation, but for someone with a mental illness, these expectations can be a major source of stress.

In the ten years that I’ve been experiencing psychological symptoms, I have started at and resigned from at least 15 different jobs (counting a few repeat incidents). In that time the longest period I sustained full-time work was under six months. The amount of stress that I felt due to my inability to retain employment was staggering, and more than once I returned from my first day of training in tears, knowing that I could not return or I would be risking a major meltdown. On few occasions I didn’t get out in time and I ended up suffering for extended periods, while still having to leave my place of work at some point.

My current situation is much different. I still cannot obtain reliable employment due to the instability of my condition, but I no longer feel the pressure to meet these expected goals of 40-hour weeks and reliable, consistent employment. The fact of the matter is that I am not currently capable of reaching these supposed standards, but I am content in the knowledge of my limitations. I can now focus on doing the things necessary to achieve my definition of happiness, rather than some prescribed regimen of day-to-day employment.

It is true that surviving on less than a 40-hour workweek is difficult, but it is not impossible. My circumstances have allowed me to become a professional freelance writer. This is not a typical job as I decide when I want to work. When I’m capable I’ll write enough to keep the collectors at bay, on a hypomanic day I might write a week’s worth of contracts, but I also have days where I’m incapable of doing anything at all.

I still need to seek a second source of income (more on that at a later date) but this is a good start that will work around my symptoms. The key to all of this is that I have found peace with the fact that I need to make adjustments in my employment expectations due to my psychological disorder. I will continue to do what I can do, and I will be happy in the knowledge that I am in tune with myself enough to reduce whatever stress I can. Now it’s society’s turn to make allotments as well.

Cheers all,

Steven

Photo by Bright Meadow, available under a Creative Commons attribution license.

The avoidance of death is the primary driving force behind life. The experience of a close relative or friend’s death can bring on some of the strongest emotions that human being is capable of producing, or it may numb you to the core. The event can be traumatic enough to induce or significantly worsen a mental illness, but it can also bring about life-altering positive revelations.

Death is one of the most interesting and mysterious aspects of existence (or inexistence), yet it is a topic that is often swept under the rug as quickly as it was brought up. I like to drag it back out.

On September 18, 2007, my mother died. She had spent the better (or worst I should say) part of six years battling infection and other complications of diverticulitis. At her time of death she was a shadow of her former self, and was mercifully unaware for the final few weeks. I suspect that I was hypomanic during the time around my mother’s death, because there is little else to explain my reaction.

I felt incredibly relieved, happy, even thankful that this woman could finally detach from the frail body that was holding her prisoner. These views are perfectly fine in many cases, but my level of enthusiasm was alarming, as I could find no flaws in death. I was completely content with the situation for a few weeks, until the inevitable crash of reality happened. Still, even when I was emotionally stricken by her passing, I have always been thankful that she did not linger anymore than she already had.

Fast-forward three years and one week; a friend of mine falls to his death in a freak accident. He was under 30, in his prime, and with one misplaced foot he was gone. I was already quite down when this happened as I was having some relationship issues as well as difficulties dealing with the anniversary of my mother’s passing, during the same period. I became despondent, possibly even delirious. I wasn’t suicidal but I was personally identifying with death, becoming absorbed in the concept in a feeble attempt to control my reactions. I could literally feel death inside of my head, I saw it in everyone, and all of my thoughts were colored by its influence. The fog wouldn’t lift for weeks.

Now the anniversaries are coming up, and I’m feeling relatively stable. It helps that a lot of good things have happened in my life recently. I’ve found a source of income that could potentially sustain me while still being within my limits, and my personal relationships have been incredibly stable. With this view I can see that death itself is a good example of having bipolar traits.

Each death affected me in a completely different manner (due to the circumstances surrounding them, and my state of mind at the time), and neither was healthy. I still relate with many of the ideals I expressed during the time around the death of my mother, but I realize that there are aspects of both views that are completely valid if they are considered together. I get into trouble when I go to either extreme, and really, isn’t that the way with most things in life?

Good vibes all,

Steven

Photo by Don LaVange, available under a Creative Commons attribution license.

For a long period in my life I had a deep desire to be the best at everything I attempted. I was a “gifted” child, so achieving this goal was not far from the expectations others held for me. I excelled in every sport I tried, consistently had grades among the highest in school, and was very popular among all types of peers (I was one of the few that could drift from clique to clique). Like most teenagers, I did not know how lucky I was at the time.

By the time I graduated from high school, I had experienced very few “failures.” This would continue as I started university, but eventually my mental problems started to come to the surface. Before I knew it, I was falling behind in classes, I could no longer concentrate enough to competently play sports, and my social life was beginning to fall apart. Everything I had considered “successful” about my life was suddenly being taken away from me, and it would be years before I realized that I hadn’t suddenly become incompetent, but was rather experiencing the crippling effects of an emerging mental health issue.

Even after I had finally linked my functional regression to the symptoms I was now experiencing, I was not willing to accept these new limitations as anything more than a temporary nuisance. Deep in my mind I was sure that I could live the same life as before if I just learned to ignore the things that were changing my behavior. So I tried to forget the fact that my mind was altered, and obliviously trudged ahead in the hollow attempt to rejuvenate my self-confidence.

The task of “ignoring” psychological systems is a venture doomed for failure. When we try to circumvent the harsh truth that we face, we cannot begin to work within the boundaries of our affliction. We must accept that mental health issues have a serious and lasting impact upon our various capabilities. When we are aware of the barriers instituted by whatever mental abnormality we face, we can then begin to look for new “success” within the avenues of exploration that are still safely available to us.

My example is this; I had spent over five years desperately attempting to find a full-time job that wouldn’t trigger a psychological episode. Consistent failure in this attempt was driving my confidence deeper and deeper into the ground. I would break down after a single day of training every single time I started working for a new employer. Following many attempts, I gave in to these repeated feelings of failure and ceased my search.

By finally ending the cycle of insanity (doing the same thing over and over, finding consistent results, and still expecting different results each time), I was able to step back and examine my own idea of “success.” Success is not achieving everything you set out to do, and it is certainly not being the best are everything either. True success, in my opinion, is to lead a happy life without hurting anyone. This is a goal that is still within my grasp, one that I find meaning within, and it is an outcome that I am happy to seek. Plus, by finally accepting my inability to work full-time, I was able to find peace (and the beginning to a decent living) through part-time services. Had I not been able to accept my limitations, this option would have never occurred to me, and I would still be suffering needlessly while failing to grasp the true sense of success and contentment that is found within ones unique capabilities.

Good vibes all,

Steven
Photo by TMOF, available under a Creative Commons attribution license.