Welcome to my blog. Here’s a little video introduction about me. It is unedited and raw but I’m working on my voice confidence skills so you will see more video messages on this blog and on my IG stories. By the way my IG is @s.m.lewis.
Today, March 30th is World Bipolar Day. I’m using this post to brag about how well I’m doing. I’ve “graduated” from the Mood Disorders/Women’s Health clinic, my medication is optimized, I have a bank of good strategies that I can turn to when things go awry.
But I am not perfect.
The unprecendeted changes that Covid-19 has brought about makes it challenging. I’ve cried a lot of tears, I’ve feared lonliness and bordeom and worry about he impact it will have on my mood. I’m waching my spending because boredom and the accessiblity of online shopping can signal a spike in mania for me. I get dressed, do my hair and makeup everyday because this helps me not sink into a depressed state. I try to go for a long neighbourhood walk daily, even in the rain because it keeps my mood equalized. As does journalling and meditation. I’m making sure I get a lot of sleep and drink a lot of water. However, the thing that makes the biggest difference for me is the friends and family who understand the challenges I am faced with and check in.
I am very grateful for them.
So check in on your loved ones especially the ones you know struggle with their mental health.
Also wherever you are in your mental health journey, whether you have Bipolar Disorder or something else know that you are loved, you are valued and your struggles and successes are real.
Recently, a dear friend of mine, Jam Gamble – aka Slayer of the Mic, sent me a reminder via IG saying “WHY ON EARTH ARE WE STRUGGLING TO INTRODUCE OURSELVES?”
Oh does she know me well!
I can talk, a lot. But when it comes to introducing me I pause and I feel awkward and I struggle to find what I want to say. I usually end up giving a very surface, stock answer. Usually how I’m a mom, and a teacher… things I’m very proud of but not exactly what I want to say. It’s part of it but I always stop short.
But I’m changing this and this is the intro I will proudly use going forward. So here I go.
“My name is Shivonne Lewis and I am a tattooed teacher, bipolar single mama of 2. I’m not sure some days how I’ll do it but I’m always figuring it out with grace and confidence.
I am a mental health advocate. Because it’s 2019 and not “getting it” or having a frame of reference for it or believing in it are not excuses. It’s time to fucking figure it out. Check your bias and figure it out.
I’m a mental health advocate because I have Bipolar Disorder Type I not because I am Bipolar. My disorder doesn’t define who I am. It’s caused me to act outside of my moral values, do to some things that may seem harmful and shameful. It became larger than what I could handle but it isn’t me.
I’m a mental health advocate because the supports and systems in place are shockingly bad. Like so bad.
I’m a mental health advocate because I want women, young women to see that you can have a disorder and manage it with support and have a great life. You can have a career, a house, kids if you want to. It doesn’t get to take away your life goals and dreams!
Oh yeah, I’m not blonde anymore 😉
I wanted to share some of the simple, low or no cost activities that I do that help me feel grounded and balanced. Many of these things have become part of my regular routine, so I save for tricky, stuck moments and some are interchangable.
Feeling or getting stuck, spinning and spinning isn’t a very good feeling. I suspect all of us, whether you struggle with mental health or not, have felt this before.
I use to ruminate on the feeling. Replay situations or outcomes I wanted to force over and over. I would “vent” to friends but not in a healthy way, I was actually trying to unload my stuck feelings onto them – to release it and pass it on, or have them solve it for me. This put a strain on relationships. Many of those friends love me and have supported me as I’ve worked through challenges but it feels good to be growing healthier relationships with them.
So here’s my list of things I do to avoid getting stuck, or help me get unstuck.
Skin care routine – regardless of age and gender if you haven’t adopted a skin care routine I highly recommend it. You don’t have to spend a lot of money on a premium product either. A cleanser, a toner, and a moisturizer. I practice my skin care routine in the morning and again when I go to bed. Sometimes if I’m stuck or upset I just go and wash my face and moisturize. The practice of the cool water splashing my face, the circular motion of my fingertips on my face, the soft scent of the moisturizer is often enough to ground me. Let’s not forget the added benefit of nicer skin.
Chewing strong mint gum or candy – This one I use in the moment. The strong mint and the chewing I feel in my jaw is just the right amount of sensory stimulation to calm my sense so I can focus on what I need to.
Meditation– I know, I know you’re going to tell me that you can’t meditate. That you’ve tried it before and it doesn’t work. That your mind wanders, that you giggle, that your body hurts and you feel uncomfortable. Guess what I felt that way too, everyone feels that way when they start meditating. In fact, isn’t that how we feel when we start ANY new activity. I’ve been meditating consistently for over a year now and it’s brought a calm and balance to my life that I’ve never thought possible. I started with the Calm app and used the guided meditation but now I find guided distracting. I use music, sometimes a triangle and focus my breathing on the ringing sounds. I have a meditation corner in my room, I meditate on my couch, in my classroom, in my car . I meditate with my students and if I can get pre-adolescent kids to buy into meditation I’m pretty sure you can do it.
Run/Walk/Bike/Lift – do something that puts strain on your body, lungs and heart. I run (okay I’m just getting back to it after coming off a long break which was caused by a mental block holding me back) but I run. The feeling of my feet hitting the ground, the sweat dripping down, the sounds of nature, traffic, people. Knowing that I’m mentally challenging myself keeps me grounded. I can’t always just go for a run when I’m feeling stuck so that’s why keeping a consistent running schedule is key for me. I urge you to find your version of running.
Hot or Cold Shower – this one works wonders to snap me back out of place where I am ruminating about something. It’s so sensory in many ways and I stay in and breathe deeply until I feel that sense of calm. If I can’t shower I wash my face. If I can’t wash my face I wash my hands or stick them in cold water.
Loud Happy Music – I put on my favourite music. Not music that reflects how I am feeling but rather how I want to feel. Recently my friend played me Yoga Beats and it was just so uplifting so next time when I’m feeling off I’m definitely going to use that to help ground me.
Mascara and Lip Gloss – What is something you love to put on that makes you feel like a super star? Is it a certain tie, a silk scarf? Maybe a favourite scent, special socks? Your best pair of jeans? For me it’s mascara and lip gloss. I can be having the worst day but those two things make me feel like “damn girl you got this.”
Essential Oil – When I am feeling off I apply a few drops of peppermint oil to the inside of my wrists and behind my ears. It’s instantly soothing. I take a few deep, slow breaths and the scent carries me through a few hours. When I’m at home I diffuse essentials oils. Often peppermint or lavender but sometimes I’m fancy and I use pinterest to find combinations to reflect the mood I want to bring about.
I’m sure there’s more subtle things I do regularly that I’m not mentioning but the point is you can bring yourself back to a grounded reality in a very low or no cost way. It’s being deliberate and intentional and practicing them when you are balanced so they become automatic when you aren’t.
Share, what works for you, what have you tried or might like to try?
When I started this post my intention was to recount a heart felt reflection of this time a year ago. To give insight to the haunting feelings that I was struggling with.
But I’ve changed my mind.
I don’t want to focus on that. I don’t want to get stuck there. In that darkness. I’d rather share the small everyday things that have been bringing me joy and some of the lessons that have gone along with it.
It goes without saying my kids. They are affectionate, strong willed, stubborn and funny. I’m excited for the world of possibilities that lay ahead for them. But family is also my extended family. My parents, siblings, nieces, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparent(s). I’ve come to understand that the expectations I’ve placed on family aren’t always realistic and I need to love and value them for who they are.
Friends that are Family:
I use to think that to be truly loved you measured this by a great number of people surrounding you. I’ve since learned the difference between friends that are family, friends that are for fun, family that are friends, friends that are circumstantial and friends that are acquaintances. All have their place and some people start as one, change or blur the lines.
I have developed a network of people that fiercely love me for me. As I love them. We check in when we know we are struggling, include in family moments, parent one anothers children, have fun self-care days, send each other funny memes or inspirational quotes. We laugh – we laugh a lot. We act silly, sometimes inappropriately.
We love each other fiercely.
Oh and a nice side effect to losing friendships – the space it’s opened for new ones ❤
Recently a friend brought me her leftover popcorn because she knew how much I loved it. I ate it my bed with the biggest smile on my face!
Food is NOT the Enemy:
Okay I’ll admit this is one I still struggle with. All.the.time.
But I’m getting better.
Food is feeding your body. Food is treating yourself. Food is time spent with friends and family. Food is celebration. Food is not something to restrict and then binge on. It’s not out to get me.
So I’m reclaiming it. I try new recipes. I say yes when friends invite me for Nachos, I drink the champagne and I have ice cream and coffee for lunch (like I just did now).
I was not prepared for how much I would love this dog.
I knew I would appreciate the companionship. The opportunity to walk more. The running buddy (which training starts soon for her). I knew it would be a lot of work to train a puppy – it is. I knew it would be expensive. But I did not know that she could fill my heart with as much happiness as she does.
“I’m bent, but I’m not broken
I’m stronger than I feel
I’m made of flesh and bone
Not made of steel” – Miranda Lambert
“I paint my lips red, I turn my own head
Don’t need nobody’s help, zipping up my own dress
Pay my own tab, with my own cash, unattached” -Lady Antebellum
I’ve learned to love my time alone. I turn the music loud, I dance, I clean. I get my nails done and buy myself pretty things.
I decorate my skin with meaningful tattoos that tell my story.
I meditate. Often. I journal and colour. I appreciate nature and look for small simple signs.
I walk down the stairs each morning and I smile because the beauty that surrounds me is mine.
The Real Secret to Joy is Finding Your Own Version of Eating Popcorn in Bed:
Also known as do what makes you happy, unapologetically.
I always say I’m not one for resolutions. But that’s not totally true. I prefer reflection. Looking back at the ups and downs that actually make life beautiful. I like to choose a goal for the new year coming up. In the past it’s been weight loss, finance, organizing, trying a new activity. But this year I want a more universal concept.
Self-Reflection. That’s my 2019 goal.
I want to continually remind myself to look back and be proud of the challenges I’ve overcome and the successes I’ve had. I also want to pause and enjoy and live in the moment. I want to be less connected to my social media (yikes yes I just said that) and more connected to my family, friends, the natural environment so that means documenting less with photos and stories and not reviewing the content others post as much. This will be a challenge as it’s become a bit of an addiction and I run a small social media business, but a challenge doesn’t mean I can’t it just means I need to set limits and be creative. I want to continue to have less things and more moments. I want to keep learning to manage my finances so I can finally travel. I want to run not for a speed or distance goal, not to be thin but because it’s the one activity that truly makes my heart joyful.
Last year the kids and decided to collect memories throughout the year. We placed them into a jar. We were not always consistent. Sometimes we wrote a lot, sometimes a little. We haven’t opened them up yet because shared parenting means sometimes you can’t do the things you want to on the exact day. But I’m excited to go through them and reflect on all of the things that did together. This is a tradition we will definitely continue.
Another reflection tradition is one with my amazing friend @sariendipity We create vision boards and I love this activity because I keep it in my room and it’s a daily reminder of what is important to me.
Anyway I’m excited for the ups and downs 2019 will bring. I hesitate to say it will be the best year ever, or that it’s going to be great because I can’t actually predict what happens. But I can appreciate the good moments, and handle the tricky ones as best as I can.
I want to end this with a Year End Reflection I found on google. A head’s up this might be triggering and upsetting if you’ve experienced trauma and/or suicide/self-harm.
YEAR END REFLECTION:
5 HIGHLIGHTS (accomplishments, best memories)
-Getting our dog Scout. She has been a joy and a very welcome addition to our family.
-Wasaga Beach mini-cation with my two besties and our kids. So many laughs and memories!
-Returning to work and killing it! I’ve found my passion for the classroom again and my confidence has returned.
-My 40th Birthday. I was surrounded by so much love and that feeling is still with me.
5 DISAPPOINTMENTS (failures, missed opportunities)
-Running. It hasn’t gone well and I just couldn’t get it together in 2018. I’m hoping to change it.
-Dating. That is all.
-Finances. The turn around hasn’t been easy and this will certainly be something I continue to work on.
-Over dosing internationally on my medication with the intention to self-harm.
3 GAME CHANGERS (unexpected events that shifted your priorities)
-Being hospitalized and spending time in the acute psychiatric unit. It was humbling, hard but also a massive game changer. Here I was given a proper diagnosis, and it started the learning journey about my illness (bipolar disorder) and armed with the tools needed to manage it successfully.
-Starting this blog.
-Sharing my story unapologetically.
3 THINGS YOU FOCUSED ON (what you put the most of your time into)
*this one is easy
-My mental health. Getting the correct diagnosis (Bipolar Disorder), learning about it and how it has really shaped most of my life and appropriate treatment to manage it.
-Living life authentically. It’s meant having hard conversation. Ending relationships that didn’t have a positive impact on my life, and being honest with myself and others about what I need, even if it’s not always favourable.
-Self care, self care and more self care.
3 THINGS YOU FORGOT (What you didn’t get around too)
-Following my plan for checking the mail and answering voice mail. This is still a huge task avoidance.
-My financial diet. I’ve created a plan but I only follow it loosely.
-Focusing and fixing on my disordered eating. I’ve pretended that I’m better by hiding what I’m doing but I’m still resorting to extreme reduced calorie diets. protein shakes and fasting, and binging when I’m emotionally taxed.
I am excited for this year. When I compare it to the dark inner struggles that I was managing exactly one year ago this place feels good.
There are a lot of great metaphors for life and life balance but when I think about my own personal experience, especially when it comes to love and relationships the idea of a jenga tower comes to mind. First it starts out pretty solid as you build it up piece by piece starting with a stable foundation. You want to make sure those bottom pieces are aligned just the way they should be. You carefully place the blocks one at a time following the set pattern. Going rogue or off book will inevitably lead to a quick crash. Once you’ve finally built your tower it looks perfect, strong, stable and you have it made! Like nothing is going to take it down. But as you play the game, remove pieces and stack them back on you’re changing the game. Adding instability, danger, challenge. It’s a rush until one moves makes it all come crashing down. You instantly regret the choice but the damage is done. The tower is splayed out on the table pieces everywhere. When this happens, there’s two kinds of people. The ones who build it back up again without a thought and the ones that put it away and save it for when their head is back in it.
Which type of person is right? I guess it depends on their motivation. Are the rebuilders building it back up because they are resilient and willing to jump back in and correct what might have gone wrong the first time? Or are they blindly building doomed to make the same errors again? What about those who promptly put it away? Are they throwing in the towel too soon avoiding the chaos and the mess from happening again? Or are they taking the time to process, think of their game plan carefully before returning to it?
Which type of person am I? Both and neither really. I’ve played a dangerous game when it comes to relationships. I’ve added instability, danger, challenge. I’ve shown resiliency, and tried to correct mistakes and fix what went wrong. I’ve jumped in without thinking of the consequences and impact. I’ve avoided chaos and mess but I’ve also given myself space, time to reflect, to process and return. The problem is once I return I find myself still feeling unstable like I can’t trust that the whole thing isn’t going to crumble yet again. So I push and back away. The rest of this post is a pretty explicit account of my past relationships. It could be triggering or disappointing so this is a good place to stop if you worry about that.
For being almost 40, I haven’t actually had many relationships to base my experiences on. I started dating quite young and pretty much jumped into longer term “serious” relationships. It was a critical time when I should have focused on discovering myself and findinging what brought me happiness but instead I felt like happiness was related to a sense of pleasing someone else. It was tied to not being alone and feeling like I was part of a larger community. This would remain a constant theme throughout all of my young adult and adult years.
My first longer relationship was pretty standard in terms of a young teenage relationship. He drove, was interested in things I wasn’t but I gave up my interests for his. His family was lovely and they included me in family dinners and activities. He was also the first person I was sexually active with. I don’t want to paint the wrong impression that I was forced because it wasn’t like that. But we weren’t taught about consent and what that meant. He never asked me if I wanted to and I never said that I didn’t. I don’t actually know what the outcome would have been if we had that discussion but it makes me a little sad to know that it didn’t necessarily have to go the way it did. It did because we were uneducated that there could be another way.
Him and I broke up but not before I “cheated” on him at a party with another male that I sort of knew. I use to say it just happened but experience has taught me that things never just happen. When you partner alcohol (especially underage), low self esteem and little understanding of self this can easily happen. But even then I was already engaging in self-destructive behaviour and I wanted out of a relationship I felt stuck in so this seemed like the perfect way to make it happen. Even then the signs of emotional dysregulation and bipolar disorder were evident. I would later on return to this exact situation for the exact same reasons.
My now ex-husband and I started dating approximately 2 weeks after this relationship ended. We both jumped in with strong intensity. It was a few months before our 18th birthdays and it was a pretty serious “adult” like relationship. I was still a confused, lost young girl with no sense of self, dealing with mental health issues I had no idea were issues.
A year later we were making living arrangements because we had decided to go to the same university. At the time it was exactly what I wanted. Again his family was lovely and included me. I felt a sense of community and the loneliness had ceased. I was building a strong, secure, stable base for the life that I thought I really wanted. But I was still a child, we both were and we didn’t give ourselves space to grow into the adults we weren’t meant to be. We had personal issues neither one of understood in ourselves or each other. Mine were extreme emotional highs and lows and his were anger. The combination together was catastrophic. We kept building the tower because the dream was more important than the underlying issues. He doesn’t like me talking about him on here. He’s asked me not to and I’m torn between wanting to respect his wishes – as he is the co-parent of my children- and wanting to tell my story. He tells me he’s dealt with the things that have happened between us and moved on. I feel like he hasn’t. That he is embarrassed by it and isn’t ready to own it, to be accountable for it and say this is what I am doing to repair harm. I’m also a little envious because if he has actually moved on than what is wrong with me that I’m still so haunted by the things that transpired?
When the tower fell, it fell hard! My ex husband didn’t know (he does now) but I was having an affair and i’ve talked about this before on my blog. I don’t even pretend that it “just happened” because again experience has taught me that nothing just happens. This “relationship” was was with someone I was friends with. He was one half a couple friend. The four of us were close but hindsight shows me that we didn’t actually know each other well, just versions of what we wanted one another to be. I knew the affair was wrong, I can tell you that the communication between us very early on hinted at being inappropriate. A little too flirty, a little too often. I can tell you the exact moment when the interaction definitely crossed the line. It was April. I was out with girlfriends for an overnight trip in Toronto and I posted a photo on my social media where I was wearing red lipstick and felt pretty. A feeling that I didn’t often have about myself. I didn’t exactly know where things would go between us but I did know I was willing to completely let it go wherever it was going to. It was also an adrenaline rush which now I understand was tied to bipolar mania. Again he gave sense strong sense of community. His family was lovely, they included me in activities. We had mutual friends and I felt like those friendship were my whole world. His attention made me feel like I was loved and belonged. But it was still linked to my low self esteem, little understanding of self and mental health issues I didn’t see. I also think it is important to mention that I would tell this person imaginative stories about illicit, sexual relationships I had engaged in with others. But imaginative was the key. They didn’t happen but I realized he wanted me to be the kind of person who did. So again I sacrificed my interests for his.
My tower blew up. It didn’t just collapse but it scattered into thousands of pieces like the small glass cubes when a window shatters. While on vacation with our friends and our respective families my ex would walk into a sexualy compromising situation on the beach between myself and our friends. This collapsed his tower too and his anger response took over and he hit me in the face and when I got out of the ocean he continued and I hit him back this likely caused me to break my hand. I remember falling to the ground hard asking for help and watching the person I thought cared a lot for me walk away with his partner. Once again in that moment I felt very a strong wave of loneliness and I wished the ocean could have swallowed me up to release me from that feeling.
I wish I could say the affair ended at this moment but it didn’t. It would continue for another year or so. It was definitely an imbalance of power and while it didn’t cause my mental health struggles or eventual breakdown it was certainly one of the key pieces.
I use to think that in all of these relationships I lost myself. But the truth is I never actually knew who I was. I was able to shape myself and become who the people I was around needed me to be. That was all.
I’ve been doing a lot of work to build my tower back up again. The process is slow and it certainly isn’t linear. I may build a few pieces, knock some or all down. I repeat the process and learn why it didn’t work that time. I’m learning a lot about myself, my challenges but also my strengths. I have a strong sense of empathy. I see things from all angles and shades. I have a gift for creativity and making my space functional but beautiful. I have a strong motherhood instinct and I’ve created a loving, supportive home for my children. I advocate for their needs and I’ve become confident in the parenting decisions I make. I have a talent for baking and cooking and it’s been trial and error with a lot of of error but that makes me want to do it even more. I have a gift for writing and I’m not afraid to share my story even if it makes people uncomfortable. I say “I refuse to stay quiet so you can stay comfortable.” I’m an advocate for mental health and social justice and I have no space in my life for bigoted and close minded thinking. I’m creating a life that is authentic and at the moment I don’t want surface friendships. There’s a time and a place for that but right now isn’t the time for me.
All of this does have an impact on what it means for me moving forward with a new relationship. I’ve tried dating on and off again and it goes the same way. I sign up or start. I have some interesting interactions and some pleasant. The pleasant ones make me the most uncomfortable so I push back and abandon them. I’m not sure I’m in a place where I can trust that someone isn’t going to inevitably hurt me. Or I’m not going to shape myself into someone I think they want me to be. How do I bring up my past struggles and my mental health. I’ve tried immediately bringing it up but then I’m left feeling too vulnerable. I’ve tried not saying anything but then I feel the weight of a crushing secret. So I don’t actually have an answer at this time. But maybe that’s ok too.
I have this recurring dream. It started when I was probably 17 or 18. It’s neither scary or happy, it feels kind of empty. In this dream I am at an art gallery. It’s fancy and everyone is in black, there is music playing. Soft classical piano. The art changes. Sometimes modern paintings, sometimes sculpture, often photography black and white. In the dream I am there but I never see my face. I know it’s me because I’m present in my body but I’m also detached and watching from over head. It’s this really strange two perspective sensation. I always look the same. Hair is up, pearl earrings, black dress that is backless. I am always thin even during times of my life when I am not. My hair is always blonde. I’m looking at the art work and I have a glass of champagne in my hand, a delicate tall thin flute. My nails are perfectly manicured. I’m looking at the art work but I don’t actually see it because I’m not paying attention to it. I’m waiting. For someone. I assume it’s the artist but I can’t really say because I never actually meet the person I am waiting for. The dream ends in different ways. In some versions I finish the champagne and leave and I wake with such a heavy feeling of sadness. Sometimes I study the artwork and then the dream just dissipates. Sometimes I feel a hand on my shoulder. That’s my favourite version because I know it’s who I have been waiting for even though I never get more than that feeling of their presence.
I feel like this dream infiltrates my awake world. I often feel that sense of detachment. Like I am in my body but at the same time a spectator watching my life unfold from above. I usually have the feeling of sadness because I am alone. It always feels like I’m waiting for someone, anyone. Just to notice me.
I mentioned before that not all of these posts would be comfortable. For me to write or for others to read. This is going to be one of those.
**Warning** I am going to talk about sexual things that may challenge your values, attitudes and beliefs. If this makes you uncomfortable especially if you are a family member or friend then I suggest you stop reading. Browse another blog post like this one, or go back and analyze my dream.
With friendships I can come on too strong. It’s like I miss the social cues. I may come for a coffee but stay over too long. I’ve been told by someone else that this is an issue that others are too polite to mention. I can get slightly obsessive and focus all my attention on a particular friend or group and basically ignore my other friendships. I struggle with balance and boundaries and take it personally if a friend tells me they are busy or don’t respond. A good friend of mine, who has been with me every step of this journey said to me, “silent just means busy.” But I read into and catastrophize the silence. I often have difficulty seeing others needs and take this a personal attack rather than understanding that other people are dealing with their own struggles.
During a manic state it’s all about what is fun, daring and risky and little attention to consequences is paid. I’m the “life of the party”. My libido is intense and my extroversion is sky high. After the inevitable crash I’m left with a sense of shame for acting outside of my core values. I’ve crossed boundaries and lines sometimes it’s just a toe over. Something like a hug that lingers, extra held eye contact, a brush with my hand on a leg or an arm. Sometimes I go a little further over that line. I might bite an earlobe during a simple goodbye, make overt sexual comments, grab and hold a hand, lap dances because really it’s just “fun”. In some instances I’ve not only crossed the line but crumpled it up and stomped on it. I’ve put myself in some potentially dangerous, compromising situations with individuals that are little more than strangers. And… I’ve had an affair.
Why? I don’t know, I don’t understand it.
I’ve always felt a little like something is wrong with me. That I lack values or maybe I’m a sexual deviant. But I struggle with that idea too because I do have values and this behaviour contradicts what I value.
Recently I came across a term for this – Hypersexuality.
“Hypersexuality tends to occur during mania or hypomania and it creates the need for sex such that it seems you could claw through a wall if it meant getting to the sex on the other side. Picture being turned ravenously on by a dish towel. Or a floor lamp. Or a piece of tuna fish. And then needing to sate that need with the nearest warm body. Hypersexuality sort of like that.
(Of course, the opposite phenomenon also occurs. When in a depressed phase a person with bipolar may want nothing to do with sex at all.)”
- People with bipolar are more sexually adventurous than the average
- People with bipolar are more likely to have had sex with both genders
- People with bipolar may or may not identify as bisexual, regardless
I do know that impulse control, especially during a manic state is a thing. Some people will struggle with drugs and alcohol, shopping, gambling, driving too fast, hypersexuality. Or some people all or many of the above.
“Being bipolar means being insatiable. The high of the mania is never high enough. There is always a desire, a need, to push the high to the next level, in the same way a drug addict constantly requires more and stronger drugs. For a person with bipolar disorder, risky behavior can be the best drug of all.”
Hypersexuality is a struggle for me. When I’m manic it’s like I don’t have an off switch. Jess Melancholia in her post puts it to words better than I could. She says,
“When I’m hypersexual, I get intense cravings for sex. It’s similar to the sort of “butterflies in your stomach” feeling when you fall in love. It’s an intense high that gives me a massive boost in self-confidence. The temptation to act out is so strong I can practically feel it on my skin and taste it on my tongue. The worst part about hypersexuality is I’m never satisfied. I have to actively resist what my body is essentially trying to do on autopilot. If I’m not careful, then I’ll do something I’ll regret.”
And I’ve done things I regret.
But I’m also trying to forgive myself.
And learn to be better.
This is one piece of my bipolar disorder puzzle. It’s not simply hypersexuality. It also comes from my fear of being alone. So the attention seeking behaviour fills that need. It makes me feel that by being desired that I’m not alone. It kind of works the same way with friendships. If I constantly lend myself out, offer to help, and go out of my way it fills that same need of not feeling alone. I guess it goes back to that dream.
I also struggle with boundaries. Not just other peoples boundaries but my own. Someone will ask me to do something (personal or work related) and my head is saying no but my mouth instantly says yes. Then I feel guilt for saying yes when I don’t want to. I’ll take it on and pile my full plate a mile high or I’ll last minute make an excuse why I can’t actually fulfill the commitment. Recently I had an oil change for my car. I had to reschedule it and the day she gave me I knew it didn’t work but my mouth said yes. I then tried to cancel it but I couldn’t so I just didn’t go. Now they are calling me to rebook it but I feel humiliated that I just didn’t go.
Here’s what I am learning.
I’m learning to change the behaviours. That doesn’t mean I’m always going to get it right. I’m learning to value my time alone and find joy in that time. I’m training myself to love the space I’m in by creating a structured routine of my day, much like I would do when I have the children or am at work. I’m learning to respect my friend’s boundaries and show empathy toward what they are going through. I’m trying to ask them how they are doing instead of launching into a rant about how I am. I’m understanding that silent often does mean busy and not get out of my life. I’m learning to respect my own boundaries and establish for myself what those are. I’m learning that “love” and manipulation are NOT the same thing. I’m learning that I am who I am. I can be me in a way that is risky, fun and exciting but is also safe and doesn’t harm others too.
On Friday I went on a date. Like a normal, lets have a drink and a bite to eat kind of date. He seemed nice, conversation was great and I was thinking I’m not sure if he’s what I’m looking for but I thought if he’s interested I would go out again.
However, before I left I set up the following boundaries for myself.
- A kiss is fine but that is all. But ask me, even ask me if you want to hold my hand or hug me. It’s all about respect and consent!
- I don’t want to be called “beautiful, gorgeous, honey” etc. Those are presumptuous terms from someone who is basically a stranger. They make me feel icky.
- I don’t owe you an explanation so if you ask me something and I politely decline or say that’s a story for another time, it needs to be respected and not probed deeper.
He didn’t follow all my boundaries. And to be fair I didn’t share them but I am kind of looking for someone who just is naturally that way. Someone’s who values and boundaries align with mine.
When he texted me the next morning I instantly felt compelled to agree to meeting up again, because he was nice enough and I was feeling guilt for not wanting to disappoint him. I also felt maybe my bar is too high I mean let’s face it I’m a risky investment. Getting caught up with me – who would even want that? I also told myself I don’t want someone who is nice, I want daring, risky, dangerous. But really that wasn’t any of it. I went back to the boundaries I established for myself in the first place. He didn’t follow my rules. Period. I can change my mind, I have choices. So I thanked him, politely declined and wished him luck in his search (thanks to my awesome support network for helping me through it).
So I am learning, and I do want to change my behaviour.
I also think, that this week I’m going to go to the local art gallery, and I’m going to let my hair down lose and wild and i’m going to take my time and really appreciate and soak in every single art piece that is in there. And I’m going to go it alone!
There’s this underlying idea that taking medication for brain disorders is okay if it’s a short term solution. To give your time to sort your life out and get it together and get back on track.
This was the mindset that I had. When I had postpartum depression with my second child I was relived to be prescribed Zoloft. Everything I understood about PPD led me to believe it was a temporary condition that would correct itself once my hormones were balanced and the medication simply let me weather the storm. I didn’t feel shame, though I did feel like I fought the fight and then threw in the towel. But I was okay because this was not going to be forever.
A year later I weaned off Zoloft.
November 2016 I went on Wellbutrin (I didn’t love Zoloft because it made me feel too flat). Again, in my mind this was a temporary fix for a problem directly related to a situation that I needed help weathering. A few months before, in August my long term relationship and marriage to my husband had ended. This was not a “neat” and “tidy” separation. It was “messy” and “enormous” and built on lies, partial truths, deception, anger and hurt. Storms had been brewing between my ex and I for quite a few years. We lost the ability to communicate and rather than coming together to find common ground we became angry, retaliatory and distant. Looking back I can see that my mental illness played a huge part in this break down and of course my ex had his own issues to navigate.
The breakdown event was a trigger for what was diagnosed as Depression, Anxiety and Borderline Personality Disorder. A misdiagnosis for Bipolar I disorder, which I wouldn’t uncover for another year and a half. So after fighting the good fight for 3 months I took the meds. This time there was more shame attached and eventually I went back to the Dr. because it wasn’t working. I had Celexa added and then this past January the Celexa was removed and Effexor was added, and Wellbutrin reduced. I was also in counselling. All of this treatment was only going to be short term. Until I got it together, adjusted and accepted my new life as a divorced mom of two.
Except it didn’t get better. It got worse. Much worse.
As it turns out the medication I was taking to treat Anxiety/Depression was making me worse. Because I was misdiagnosed and actually I had Bipolar I disorder. after a correct diagnosis was given my medication was switched to a mood stabilizer. In my case, Lamotrigine. I felt a sense of relief and hope. With a correct diagnosis I could educate myself and learn about the illness. With the correct medication I could take the edge off, get it together, become adjusted and accept my life as a divorced mom of two.
But then she said it.
The psychiatrist on the inpatient mental health floor. “You need to understand that you will need to be on a mood stabilizing medication for the rest of your life. If you come off of it, your manic episodes followed by the crash into depression will return.” I told her I understood but that night I cried myself to sleep.
Pharmaceuticals are bad for us. They are suppose to be a temporary solution until you find the proper diet, exercise, lifestyle, essential oil, meditation, organic food option to actually keep you well. The aren’t suppose to be forever.
But it’s not true. That might be the truth for some people. But the truth is a combination of all of this is wellness.
What works for me works for me and that’s it. I shouldn’t feel shame because I’m going to need a mood stabilizer for the rest of my life. Because it will keep me alive. I may have side effects (brain fog, sleepiness). There may be long term harm caused (I’ve heard it harms your immune system) but the reality is the medication is keeping me alive. It’s taken away all passive and active suicidal thoughts. It is slowing down my brain so when the mania builds and I’m about to make an impulsive decision it gives time for to make more reasonable decision or at the very least turn to my support network.
Don’t assume that because I’m medicated that I’m not allowed to have bad days. I’m still going to have days that are challenging. I’m still going to feel the euphoria of a manic episode going on. The medication will not make Bipolar Disorder disappear. It’s not like an infection that will clear up with a good round of antibiotics. It’s one piece of the wellness puzzle. For me, I need therapy, I need to run and work out, I need to snuggle my dog, I need to journal, I need to sing, I need people – the people who love me because being lonely is a major trigger for my mania. I need a good budget and savings plan. I need to learn boundaries and respect the boundaries I’ve established for myself. I need to write this blog and be upfront and open and honest. I need to become a mental health advocate. All of these things are what will help me manage my illness.
So I’m accepting that being on medication is going to be for the rest of my life. And i’m okay with that.