For someone with bipolar disorder, comfort can be found in some odd and dark places. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t comforted (in a selfish and devious way even) when being around someone with mine or a similar condition. It makes me feel like, “Ha! Yes! It’s not only me!” I know, I know…but, hey, whatever gets me through the night.
One of the most important things us mentally ill folks can do is practice consistent self-care. Self-care is an important approach to the management of long-term health conditions, especially when it comes to mental health. Plus, it’s just downright good for you.
It’s April 5, 2022 – the 28th anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s death. Nearly three decades ago, the “spokesman of a generation” took his own life with a shotgun.
If it hadn’t happened to me and if it wasn’t true, it might almost be comical. Last time I was here blogging I was describing the tranquility needed at the end of a trip of any sort. If you remember, my family and I extended our little getaway an extra day to be used only to recharge and recuperate. Which I guess in theory sounded great. It really did. That was right up until the next morning before we checked out.
A newly released study is tying people’s religious uncertainty and lack of faith in the divine to poor mental and psychological well-being.
First off, work is picking back up as the warmer weather is (maybe) finally starting to settle in. I work for both a lawncare and a construction company. Yards will need to be mowed; houses will need to be built or repaired. Things are about to pick up and get busy. It’ll be mornings of rushing to get the kids shipped out to whoever is watching them on that day by 6 am. It’ll be the “get-up-and-go” this household really needs.
It’s a subject as old as time, and a personal dilemma everyone experiences at some point in their lives: the fear of death and dying.
If the mind is truly like a muscle, then blogging must be the last leg of a 10-mile race. That might seemf like hyperbole, but it’s actually based in some reality.
I did my first round a few months ago and I could tell an immediate difference. But the farther apart each treatment is the less effective it will be.
It’s been one of those days, and if it’s anything like the last half of yesterday then you can count me out.
And don’t go out smiling-
In the reverie of death’s sweet delivery,
a smile would only cloud,
and be monstrous….
If these city blocks could talk, would you hear the hollow echo of my soul’s soles, edging around the lonely buildings, thru the twisted and deformed night?
I would say I can’t be the only one with bipolar disorder who knows how well this disease operates under the pressures of a job and workplace, but I already know that I’m not; it’s a topic that is oftent used when writing about bipolar disorder. It may seem like a tired beat, and I certainly do not have anything new to add to the conversation. My experiences are not uncommon or unique. They are just mine. But I’m assuming you already know that if you’re here reading this.
It’s cliche, yes, but nonetheless it comes with the territory. Part metaphors, part exaggeration, “sex, drugs, and mania” pretty much sums up my personal experience with the dangerous and unpredictable nature of the madness.
As a musician and just as a human being on a very basic level, music is a key part of my every day. I’m making no correlation between the madness and the necessity of music in one’s life, it’s just a fact: music is a key part of my life.
“If I can’t feel, if I can’t move, if I can’t think, and I can’t care, then what conceivable point is there in living?” – Kay Redfield Jamison It’s been a pretty “blah” week on my end of things, personally and professionally that is. My […]
You know that expression “You don’t know what you got until it’s gone”? Well, boy, is it true!
My life, though, for the sake of only a little bit of remembrance, appears to me in broken, fragmented passages of cloudy polaroids. But I do think there is something special in the knowing – the remembrance – of one’s life.
Having bipolar disorder is like standing on the edge of a cliff in a thunderstorm: there’s an intense beauty about it, but ultimately in the end it’s just not a good idea. And that’s okay. It’s a well-known fact that if you play with fire, you just might get burned.
I have recently (and finally) set out to work on a “bigger project” I’ve imagined for some time now. I’ve only just gotten to the point in attempting to pursue this particular endeavor after both exhaustive research and personal experience.
I’m not entirely sure what the actual verbatim textbook definition of the word “chaos” is, but I know for me it can only be described as a constant state of mental confusion and disorganization that leaves me in a place of total loss.
In our modern day and age it can be easy to get wrapped up in oneself under even the most “typical” or “normal” circumstances. But when graced with a mental illness, any mental illness, those of us afflicted can sometimes really get lost in our own slanted egos.
“You know how most illnesses have symptoms you can recognize? Well, with manic depression, it’s sexual promiscuity, excessive spending, and substance abuse—and that just sounds like a fantastic weekend in Vegas to me!” – Carrie Fisher It seems the older I get the less I […]
Not all days are bad days, and sometimes I have nothing in particular I need or want to say. So, I started a little “Spotlight” segment in which I talk about someone of cultural prominence who suffers from bipolar disorder. The idea is to use a “poof”-style piece to shine a light on said chosen person. It’s a personal exercise and challenge, and also helps make this illness just a tad more relatable. This is my second “Spotlight” piece, the first of which was on Vincent Van Gogh.
From the ages of 15 – 25 I was in a total tailspin without being aware that anything was wrong (there’s a lot in that 10-year period that could act as a general testament to human stupidity, so we’ll save that for another day). However, it was right before my 25th birthday that it was more than clear that I needed help.
“For me, the first sign of oncoming madness is that I’m unable to write.” – Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life It’s funny how certain traits and talents go when in the throes of either a manic or depressive period. And it’s funny how others […]
Nietzsche said faith is not wanting to know what the truth is. And as a dutiful nihilist, I would be remiss to even try and feign a belief in a Christian God.
“For too long we have swept the problems of mental illness under the carpet… and hoped that they would go away.” – Richard Codey Whoever said “hope springs eternal” never offered me any sound advice on the mantra. Despite being someone who operates from a […]
As I’ve mentioned before, there is no one, direct cause when it comes to bipolar disorder. However, it is known that approximately 80% of the cause has been traced back to genetics. And with the heritability rate of bipolar disorder being off the charts, it’s only natural for me to wonder who is responsible for passing this on down the line to me.
You hear it at the beginning of every year. “New year, new me.” It hardly ever seems to work out that way but it’s a nice thought. If you are one of the lucky ones, though, then good for you.
I’ve mentioned before in this blog the possible link between creativity and bipolar disorder and first person who comes to mind when thinking about this theory is Vincent Van Gogh.
With there being dozens of different medications available for the treatment of bipolar disorder, one has remained a main go-to for nearly a century: lithium.
We all know thar the exact cause of bipolar disorder is still unknown, and it’s unclear at times which is more important: finding the root cause of the disorder or treating the symptoms. One would probably argue the first option, but some of this disease’s symptoms and the extremes one can experience can, at times, outweigh the need to know why.
It goes without saying those dealing with bipolar disorder have to handle themselves on a day-to-day basis. Second-to-second, at time.
My personal battle with the big, bad bipolar disorder has been a long one. Seventeen years, in fact. I was 15 when I was first diagnosed. I was 17 when I was diagnosed for the second time. But it wasn’t until I was 24 that I first started to seek out treatment
