When Life is Good

There is hope.  Not just the hopy/changy kind of thing politicians promise but are unable to deliver,  but genuine hope in the face of a potentially disabling disease.

I have not always experienced this hope.  Early on in my treatment for bipolar disorder I was sceptical about the prospects of leading a 'normal' life, whatever that is.  I feared that any 'normalcy' would only be the inbetween phase during the transition from manic highs to depressed lows, or vica versa.  Even that was an improvement.  Sometimes as I cycled from highs to lows, the transition was abrupt and almost violent, like falling off a cliff.  Along with major shifts that might take months to cycle I experienced a daily cycle.  I'd feel tolerably well early in the day, only to descend into a deep depression around mid afternoon.  I described it as being like the San Francisco fog that rolled in each day at a predictable time.

Lately, that cycling has been gone.  I'm not sure why, nor do I care why.  It just is.

It's hard to describe the experience.  Just normal, stable, consistent.  I don't cycle.  I thank God for the medications that are a major help in that regard.  I have energy to be productive.  I'm currently working on a side project in my shop, in addition to my normal work.  This is a good sign. 

Two major issues remain, and they are somewhat interrelated.  Insomnia and nicotine. 

It has been two months now since I've had a cigarette.  This would be a great achievement except for the fact that I've only succeeded at that by using nicotine replacement therapy, either with the patch or more recently, with vaping.  My current goal is to put enough time in free from cigarettes, that when I address the issue of cutting down and quitting nicotine entirely, I will not be tempted to buy that pack.  This has been difficult, to say the least.

The most difficult thing about quitting nicotine is that it destabilizes my moods.  Withdrawal brings with it irritability, anger, depression.  I genuinely don't like myself at those times.  And the trap is that I am quick to seek relief.  And because using doesn't carry with it the catastrophic consequences that, for example, having a drink might, it is easy to indulge and to alleviate the moods.  Because I'm bipolar, there is probably no greater fear than that associated with uncontrollable mood shifts.  This intensifies the issues concerning withdrawal and quitting.

My hopes remain.  My game plan at this point is that I will probably use lozenges to ease the transition from the vaping.  Either that or just attempt to gradually reduce the amount of time spent vaping.  Vaping has some advantages over smoking.  In that it is just water vapor that carries the nicotine, much of the negative issues around smoking are eliminated.  Yet it also has the same habitual behavioral issues.  I go out and take a break.

One of the differences is that when smoking one tends to commit to at least one whole cigarette.  At least I did.  With vaping you can take a few puffs and be done with it.  Or you can vape for an extended period of time.  That's the down side.

My main motivation for breaking free is the impact on the rest of my health.  When I first went on the patch my sleep patterns improved drastically.  Now with vaping, I'm back to my old patterns. 

Insomnia.  I first struggled with this during my teenage years.  I always had a hard time falling to sleep, though early on, once asleep I could sleep.  As I aged, and as the bipolar disorder became more pronounced, remaining asleep became a problem. 

Added to this is that these middle of the night times have become a part of my spiritual experience.  I crave the time for reflection and meditation.  The peaceful silence is golden. 

Also, in that sleep is a struggle I often feel relieved to wake up.  One of the things I experience is frustrating and repetitive dreams.  Not nightmares, just repetitive and irritating.  Getting up for a while interrupts this.

These two issues aside, life is good.  Much improved over what it has been and for that I'm grateful.

One of the best things is the confidence with which I can live these days.

One of the fears I had when I was first diagnosed is that I might experience highly undesirable symptoms which might have devastating consequences.  Mania can manifest itself in inappropriate sexual drives and behaviors.  My concern regarding this was related to, among other things, my profession.  In fact, during the time of my being on disability I questioned whether the Church could ever allow one such as me to function as a pastor again.  It is prudent for the Church to allow a bipolar person to be a pastor when one of the defining symptoms of mania is sexual indiscretions?  I thought not.

As I've stabilized on medications, this fear has subsided.  Just take your meds, dude!

That's something one has to remember.  I'm feeling the way I'm feeling in large part due to the medications I am on.  It's easy to convince oneself that 'I'm better now, and don't need the medications anymore.'  Nope.  Don't believe it.  Not for a minute.

Actually, the last time I determined that I didn't need meds, I replaced them with Scotch.  That did not have a good result.

The only downside to the meds is that my insurance company is not pleased that I'm on a lifetime regiment.  And my meds exceed my monthly premium, substantially.  They lose money on me.

On this matter I'm humored.  Portico Benefits is our church's insurance.  They use Express Scripts to manage the prescription drug plan.  Express Scripts has a pharmacy.  What I'm humored by is that when I was using a local pharmacy, Express Scripts, on behalf of Portico, was continually asking that my doctors justify the medications they were prescribing.  This was irritating as these are 'lifetime' meds.  I'll never get off them.  But when I started buying the meds from Express Scripts, they no longer question them.  I wonder if Portico knows that.

Well, its time to lay down again.  Sleep is good, when I can get it.

The True Self

As one who is bipolar there is an underlying question of identity.  Its not dissimilar to the "I am" of Alcoholics Anonymous. "My name is Dave, and I am an alcoholic."  The honesty of claiming that identity, of stripping oneself of all pretense of denial, is key to healing.  Yet it raises a greater question of identity.  Are we to be defined by our disease.

I am bipolar.  A statement of identity.  To know me, is to know this.

Or not.  Perhaps to know the true me you must see beyond the disease.  

I have been open about my disease.  Part of that is to deny shame a place in my experience.  I should be no more ashamed of being bipolar than I am of having had to have my mitral valve repaired.  It is simply a medical condition that needs to be treated.  It has been.  It continues to be.  But it is not me.

Or maybe it is.  

One take on this condition is to understand being bipolar as being one who is capable of experiencing a broader range of moods from the norm.  We all experience highs and lows.  Its just that one who is bipolar experiences higher highs and lower lows.  Another aspect of being bipolar is that the transition between the highs and lows can be, for lack of a better word, violent.  And uncontrollable.  Not that we don't try to control it.  We do.  I self-medicated with alcohol for a decade or so, and that worked until it didn't.  Alcohol gave me some sense of control.  I knew how I would feel after one, two, and three drinks.  If I were depressed, a Scotch lifted my spirits.  During manic phases, it calmed me.  And then it didn't work anymore.  I was drinking myself to death in a vain effort to find the relief that now alluded me.

Thankfully, the crash that followed created the opportunity for diagnosis and treatment.  Better living through chemicals.  A more stable existence follows.  The goal is to achieve a functional stability. The problem with experiencing the highs and lows of manic and depressed phases is sustainability.  And durability. One could die.  That last point is important to remember.  One could die.  

But there remains the question of identity.  Who is the true self that the "I am" refers to?

My wife would tell you that she is thrilled to have me back again.  When my bipolar disorder was becoming increasingly pronounced life had become a rodeo.  One moment I was riding high on top of the beast, and the next moment at danger of being trampled.  Rodeos are entertaining unless of course you love the rider.  Two thousand pounds of bull crashing down on someone you care for is terrifying, not entertaining.  So it is with being bipolar.  

And yet there remains part of me that feels that with the stabilization of my moods there also came a diminishing of my capacity.

When I explore vocational options with my pastor, who tries very hard to understand my condition, his response is frequently to raise the flag of caution.  "Is this wise?"  Rightfully there is a reason for caution.  Accepting a challenging position could easily trigger a manic episode, and adversity is prone to trigger depression.  How much does one trust the safety net of the psychiatric meds?  

And yet the purpose of those meds is to enhance one's life, not deprive one of life.

Somewhere within the mystery of all this lies the true self.  The person God created me to be.  The person that is both loved, and capable of loving.  

Finally the "I am" is not a reflection of the disease, but of the divine.  And for now, it is best to simply leave it at that.

An Easter Faith in a Bipolar World

It was four years ago on Easter that I wrote my letter of resignation from First Lutheran in Sandpoint, ID.  It was an exhilarating experience, actually, as I shed the weight of the burden that my ministry there had become.  It was as if I had died, and now was made alive.

My life changed course.  What I determined was that I would now apply myself wholeheartedly to my next enterprise, Olsons WoodWorks.  Optimism overflowed.  I  had been in business before, back in the 80's in Gig Harbor, WA.  Only this time would be different.  I would have the courage to make the investments needed to be successful.  I immediately set out to purchase a CNC router, at a cost of over $50,000, as well as upgrading some of my other equipment.  Furthermore, I invited my son to enter the business with me.  Together we'd make a killing.

I had not yet been diagnosed as being bipolar.  That would come shortly.

And what I certainly didn't realize was that the resurgence of my activity, and renewal of my spirit was not a 'resurrection' experience, where one who was once in the grip of death, in my case having nearly died, was now made alive.  I was simply cycling into a full blown manic phase.  Depression set back in in short order, though.  First some neighbors complained about the noise being generated by my CNC.  And second, the phone didn't ring off the hook with orders.

The depression and lack of work became debilitating.  There were days I could do little else than lay on the couch.  My productivity in the shop was greatly compromised.  The business in the end was a failure, though I was able to create some great pieces.  We simply couldn't generate enough income to pay wages, let alone realize a profit.  Thankfully, at that time I remained on disability so that we had enough to survive on.  

Another Easter dawns this morning.  And life has changed.

There was not a resounding clap of thunder, and a wild swing from the depths of depression into a manic high that marked my regaining my life.  Rather, having been medicated with Lamictal, my climb out of depression was a long and arduous journey, one day at a time.  I had my disability benefits abruptly terminated, and that forced me to seek employment which I found in a cabinet shop.  At times the work was shear drudgery.  But that discipline, combined with plenty of therapy and medication resulted in the end with achieving a balanced mood, not too high, not too low.

I'm now able to resume my ministry.  A highlight for me these last two weeks was being able once again to preach extemporaneously.  No notes.  No 'safety net'.  Just me and the Word, guided by the Spirit.  And with it a feeling that "I'm Back!"

Such is my Easter Faith in this Bipolar World.  The powers of death have been defeated.  Life is victorious.  Faith is restored.

Its not just about keeping the manic and depressed cycles at bay, it is that these powers of darkness and death have been overcome by the gift of life.

For this I am deeply grateful.  

Christ is Risen, he is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

And we whose lives are hidden in Christ in God, are also raised with him.  Alleluia.  Amen.