Grizzly bears are real

We have an issue with our very cute labradoodle, Kinzie.  Every time we let her out into the back yard she immediately starts barking, warning the world that this is her territory, and defending our home and family against all the potential threats.  From a dogs perspective this is necessary behavior.  Writ large in their DNA is the awareness that there are creatures out there, like grizzly bears, that are a real threat.  And so there is this conversation that takes place.  "Kinzie, quit barking, there's nothing out there."  And in her doggy way she responds, "But there could be!  I must be vigilant and keep you safe!"

The problem is that in addition to her DNA that hard wires her to try to protect and defend us from all harm, there are in fact real monsters out there and she knows it.  A few weeks back as I went out to again try and quiet her barking I realized that this time there WERE "monsters" out there.  She was in the midst of chasing away from our back fence the three moose that frequent our neighborhood at this time of year.  In her mind, this validates all the barking, and her vigilant efforts to keep us safe.  Moose are real.  Grizzly bears are real.  You must always be on guard.  Never rest.

As I deal with being bipolar, there are times when I feel like I'm becoming much more like Kinzie than I care to admit.  The slightest twinge of depression sounds an alarm.  Am  I going over the edge?  How long will this last?  How deep will I go?

And then at other times, when I start feeling well, when optimism creeps in, when the world seems to be opening up with possibilities, I tend to brace myself wondering if a manic phase is on the way.  Will it be manageable?  Will it be a pleasant productive 'high', or is it headed toward a psychotic departure from reality?

An inner voice barks incessantly at the back fence warning of the threats of the highs and lows that goes with the disease.  Depression has come close to taking my life.  Manic phases have cost us, and the Church, a lot of money, among other things. These are not  imaginary monsters, I've experienced them.  Like the moose in the back yard, they have been present.  They are real.  But not necessarily on this day.

Case in point:  I got a call yesterday.  Simple call.  An inquiry about whether I'd be willing to make a wine cellar for a client.  I had helped make a wine cellar for them numerous years ago, and now they are building a new house, and need a new cellar.  No big deal.  Now I'm actually working as a woodworker, not a pastor, so why does the inner dog start barking at the back fence to ward off the potential threats.

Well, its the thought process.  My mind starts racing.  Time to buy that new thickness planer that will be so helpful in completing this project.  I'll do this differently so as to realize a substantial profit.  I've finally turned the corner.  There is now no limit to the possibilities.  Hard work has paid off.  Now is the time, go for it.

On the other hand, its simply a commission.  I'll charge for the materials and receive compensation for my time.  And no, its not necessary to go out and retool for this to be profitable.  Just do the work.  Receive the pay.  And move on.

Yet manic and depressive episodes are real threats.  I think that I'm more capable today of recognizing when my thoughts and mood swing into either manic or depressed thinking patterns.  I recognize most of the time that there is a difference between what is happening in my head, and the reality of what is really out there.  And yet I find myself behaving like Kinzie.  Barking at the back fence to ward off the threat of a monster that is in fact, not there.  Today, its not a manic episode.  Its not a deep depression.  Its simply the ups and downs of normal life.