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holidays
  • My Bipolar Holiday Survival Guide

    OH, the holidays. A time of cheer, joy, festivity and goodwill. It is also a time of lights, noise, stress, pressure and emotional dysregulation. I know, it’s oh-so-shocking that one is unable to be jolly, however not everyone is able to sprint from Halloween to New Year’s with the enthusiasm (or even the faux enthusiasm) of a 6-year-old hopped up on candy canes and eggnog.

    Which gives us our start: not everyone is as merry and happy as you.

    The holidays are hard for some people. The holidays are hard for many, many reasons that do not even necessarily include mental illness. Be mindful of this fact when encountering fellow man that is not eagerly plotting his Elf on Shelf exploits or posting photos of their tree. A 2014 survey from NAMI found that 24% of those with a diagnosed mental illness find that the holidays exacerbate their illness up to 40%. One survey respondent who suffers with major depression shared that the holidays highlight all that is challenging about living with depression. 

    Not everyone has someone to celebrate with.

    While the world is off planning and attending holiday celebrations and talking with parents and siblings about the Christmas or Hanukkah menu, there are folks who are spending the holiday alone. Perhaps their anxiety doesn’t permit them to leave the house and enjoy the company of others. Perhaps they suffer from SMI and are in the hospital, on the streets, in jail or worse. Perhaps they are just isolated. There are sadly, far too many reasons why someone might be alone on the holiday. Have compassion. Extend an invite. Provide some companionship. If your schedule allows, volunteer.

    But I’m the one with a mental illness. I hate this time of year.

    Me too, sister. Me too. It was not always this way either. Repeat after me: I will do self-care.

    If I keep my own mental health in mind first and foremost and I can participate in the season. How?  Carving out a safe place for when the noise is too much. Last year, during peak squeals of delight and early morning Lego building, I snuck out to my local Starbucks who was open. The twenty minute round trip care ride with a piping hot chai latte was enough to recharge me for a few hours.

    I have to become more realistic about what I can and cannot do. For me, having small-ish children this can be challenging. However I cannot say yes to every single thing the kids and others want to do. I am happy that after two years, I have a break from the Polar Express train ride. Maybe next year, if the kids are still into it we can return. I avoid the mall at all costs and do Christmas shopping online. It saves me the stress and I don’t end up grabbing things off of Target end caps because “ooh! Look! Shiny! Pretty! On Sale!” 

    It is also important for one, including myself, to step back and think about what is the most valuable and treasured aspect of the holidays personally. Is it the meal? It is tradition? Is it volunteering? Focus on that, the one thing you can identify that does feed your soul during this time. Also the answer is personal and different for each of us. This question has no wrong answer.

    In the meantime, you will find me continuing my clean eating quest this month, avoiding the Salvation Army Santas with those darn bells and say Hi if you see me sneak out to Starbucks on Christmas morning.

    P.S. The most heartfelt thank you to those employees working on the holiday. You have no idea how much those few minutes mean to me.

  • Maintaining a Little Hope

    Next week is Thanksgiving and the official beginning of the hectic holiday season will begin. Since diagnosis, I have learned to live with a pit in my stomach and a hairball of anxiety in my throat from November to January as the trend is for me to have a setback during this season. It is simply stress and as much as I try to anticipate what needs to be done, my brain ends up defeated. I have been thinking a bit more about hope in the last few weeks as it pertains to me, to the season, to evolving moods and to 2017.

    Hope is all I have. Hope that medications continue to work. Hope that I can control my moods. Hope that my disorder remains in remission. Hope that I am a loving wife and mother. Hope that I am a patient and kind friend. Hope that I am a better, more effective provider. Hope that my patients keep hope for themselves.

    2016 has not been the best year for so many of us. I started off rough, with a deep depressive episode. Hope for symptom relief kept me moving forward and out of the hospital. Hope keeps me thinking the year will end differently than it began. I have advocated and spoken to so many congressmen and woman regarding the need for mental health reform. The hope of so many of us got HR2646 passed and we maintain hope that the Senate will soon act, continuing to push reform forward. Hope keeps me in action, showing the “world” exactly what I am capable of even if it’s not in the timeline I would prefer. 

    Four short years ago, I started spiraling down. Four short years ago, I could not recognize the symptoms nor understand that I had a problem. I could not understand I had bipolar disorder. I thought I had an ineffective therapist. Three short years ago, I believed my career was stagnant and over due to my diagnosis. I felt the knowledge of my disorder would preclude me from ever achieving anything further in this life and would ruin my family. Two short years ago I started writing. I started writing to change the way the public viewed mental illness, and in particular a nurse with a mental illness. I did it for myself, to hold onto the hope that my life was bigger than my diagnosis and would mean something to my husband, my children and me. One short year ago, I accepted a position that I never dreamed I would have. Hope always wins when you want it to.

    I suspect one has to be shown hope to have hope. I found hope when a psychiatrist believed in me and told me that during one of my hospitalizations. Prior to that moment I had truly believed I would be spending the remainder of my days in and out of the hospital. Recovering and relapsing repeatedly. I just may still. I cannot predict the future. However I have hope my new-ish pattern of stability and symptom remission will continue.

    What do I look forward to in 2017? I look forward to continuing this career I love. I look forward to working on my doctorate, provided acceptance to a program. I look forward to writing more. I look forward to presenting at a conference. I look forward to continued remission. I look forward to maintain hope.