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Breaking Bipolar

If you've been hanging out in the mental health corners of the web for longer than about a day, you've probably seen it - mental illness bashing. Mental illness, mental health, psychopharmacology, doctor, therapy and other-related-topics bashing. It's extremely common and extremely hurtful and destructive. But it's the wild and woolly web, and that sort of nastiness happens in the jungle. Here are some tips for not letting other people's nastiness get to you.
I love my readers for so many reasons, but one of them is that they leave intelligent and interesting comments on my posts. This one caught my eye: . . . in my experience anytime you challenge a p-doc they try to attribute it to a symptom such as paranoia or delusions of grandeur. So my question is how to talk back to a doctor when you don't agree with him if you are as knowledgeable as you obviously are without that happening or is it a lost cause? (Ever think a doctor has delusions of grandeur? Just saying...) I do not think it's a lost cause. I talk to my doctor like a colleague all the time, but it is tricky.
When I got diagnosed, I was attending a university and on my way to getting a bachelors of computer science. I was a pretty fastidious student in my first year and my grades were excellent. But before I knew what a mental illness was, I became sick and my grades dropped. It was only some time later that it became clear it was because I had bipolar disorder. And after months of treatment, nothing was working and one day, my doctor said to me, "You should drop out of school; you're never going to be able to finish your degree." Really? Pshaw.
Last week I wrote about how psych meds can make you feel boiling hot or freezing cold. And, of course, they can. What surprised me is the number of people who wrote in here and on Facebook about how they didn't know that. Not only did they not know it, but it had been happening to them and they didn't know it. They didn't make the connection and in some cases the doctor said it wasn't possible (like mine did). This brings me to something I always say: An effect that occurs after starting a medication is a side effect until proven otherwise.
Everyone who takes psychiatric medication is aware of side effects. Common side effects include things like dry mouth, headache, nausea, fatigue and so on. I've been a cluster of side effects longer than I can remember. (My very favourite is the one where I couldn't open my eyes in the morning and I thought I was blind. Ah, but for another day.) And one of the side effects I have had several times with medications, particularly antipsychotics, is temperature dysregulation. In other words I'm always freaking cold (or way too freaking hot).
I write an obscene amount. Here, plus my blog plus I write for other blogs and do technical articles. Oh, and I'm working on a book. This is very difficult though as I've found that a highly symptomatic bipolar brain turns into something more akin to a bipolar rock.
Despite what many people think, mental illness isn't just about "being sad" or hallucinating or feeling suicidal - mental illness is about physical pain too. One of the ways people get diagnosed with illnesses like depression is due to physical complaints (what doctors call somatic pain). When you have a mental illness, not only your brain hurts, but your body does too.
By now we know the symptoms of bipolar disorder - wild mood swings from euphoria (mania or hypomania) to depression. We know that bipolar disorder comes in lots of variants, bipolar 1, bipolar 2, cyclothmia, rapid-cycling and so forth. But when are the symptoms of bipolar disorder not bipolar disorder? Are there other illnesses that can account for bipolar symptoms? When is bipolar disorder not bipolar disorder?
It's not my fault. We say it. We think it. We spread it around. It's supposed to assuage our guilt and make others believe we didn't do anything wrong, when maybe we did. But occasionally, someone has a backbone. Not a politician, not a famous person, not a person in a position of power, but your average person that you interact with, they are capable of admitting they did something less-than-perfectly. But never, ever is it a doctor's fault. It doesn't matter what they do, or what they say, it's never their fault. They never make a mistake. They never have a bad day. They never make an error in judgement. They never write the wrong name of a drug down on a script. Never, is it ever, their fault.
I have spent many months of my life with an inability to feel pleasure - this is known as anhedonia. This means that no matter what happened, no matter how great it was, I couldn't feel happy about it. I couldn't feel happy at all. However, there is something I have learned about anhedonia, even without an ability to be happy, I can be thankful.