Bipolar Me

I was talking to my mother, and I became very upset. I don’t remember now what we were talking about or what specifically I felt. It could have been disappointment because my parents could only afford a community college rather than a four-year university. It could have been sorrow caused by the breakup of a friendship. It could have been distress because someone made fun of me.

Whatever it was, I began crying. And as was common back then, once I started crying I couldn’t stop. My out-of-control emotions led to an out-of-control reaction.

And then my mother said, “Everyone goes through this at times.”

My instant thought was “But this time it’s me.”

I know I don’t have a monopoly on suffering. Looking back, the things that aroused an emotional storm in me were nothing much, things that could be remedied. I applied to four-year universities anyway and got a scholarship deal that allowed me to enjoy a first-rate education. I somehow managed to make new friends. I learned to cope with other people’s reactions to me, eventually.

Still, my emotions remained stormy. I would cry over anything or nothing. I would feel hurts intensely and break down frequently.

But I maintain that my reaction to my mother’s undoubted truth had some validity. When difficulties hit, knowing that others had experienced the same hurts and disappointments did not help me. I was experiencing these events through a lens of intense mood swings – bipolar disorder. And that’s not something that “everyone” goes through.

It’s true that I overdramatized just like any teen to a certain extent. But there was an added edge, a force driving my emotions past the normal. I couldn’t control what I was feeling or how extremely I expressed it. My disappointment was devastating. My sorrow was cataclysmic. My distress was hysterical. It’s no wonder my mother had no idea what I was feeling or how to deal with it. I didn’t know myself.

When people talk about bipolar, we usually talk about the back-and-forth, the rollercoaster. The intensity of the feelings gets less attention. It’s not just that we have mood swings. It’s that those moods are often out of control.

Seeing that from the outside, as my mother and my friends did, was no doubt beyond confusing. We may all go through these moods, but not everyone has the added emotional kick of bipolar pushing them past the normal into a realm that we ourselves don’t understand. If it was confusing for my loved ones, it was equally or more confusing for me.

I was like that for a long time. My experiences at college and after were colored by the fact that I didn’t know why I was the way I was. I went many years being beaten up by my own mind, my own emotions, my own brain. I despaired of ever finding a way out, and my despair was extreme, too.

Now, I’m diagnosed and medicated appropriately. I still have times when my emotions go a bit beyond the “norm.” I still have breakdowns occasionally. My startle reflex is exaggerated, and my anxiety still overwhelms me sometimes.

But at least now I understand what’s happening and why. Now, I seldom have to envy the “everyone” who experiences everyday life with less intense emotions. I may still have mood swings, but they no longer dominate my life. They’re more in line with what the general population would consider average.

I’ve finally achieved the stability that my mother knew deep down I didn’t have, even if she didn’t understand why not. I’m not knocking her; I didn’t understand it either. But I’m not that different anymore. And while I used to have a love-hate relationship with the concept of “normal,” I don’t hate it the way I did. Now, I’m more a part of “everyone.”

In 1994, writer Abigail Padgett published Child of Silence, the first in a series of mysteries featuring Bo Bradley, a child protection advocacy investigator – who just happens to have bipolar disorder (or manic depression, as it was more commonly called back then). The series continued through four more books – Strawgirl, Turtle Baby, Moonbird Boy, and The Dollmaker’s Daughter. (All are still available as ebooks.)

Recently, I had the opportunity to ask Padgett some questions about her books, her protagonist, and the state of mental healthcare today.

Is there anything you would change about Bo Bradley, given the advances made in understanding bipolar disorder and medication for it?

Not really. There are some new meds and public understanding is better, but the experience of people who live with real, clinical mood disorders is still fraught, dangerous, and revelatory.

Bipolar disorder is better understood by the general public now than it was 20 years ago – to an extent. But the general public, including me, cannot ever actually “get” what a manic or depressive or psychotic episode feels like. The best that can be hoped for is an acute public interest and support. Movies, especially like Touched With Fire, are enormously helpful.

What do you think of Stigma Fighters, the Semicolon Project, and celebrity awareness campaigns? Are they having much effect?

Hard to say anything about effects without any data, but . . .  I think focusing on the big corporate/cultural atrocities is really important. Examples are a two-page NYC menswear ad in which the front page said, “If you’re paying $50 for this shirt . . .,” turn to reverse of page, “then you should be wearing this one”  (photo of a straitjacket).  The store, Daffy’s, actually got an award for that ad! Then there was John Deere’s “schizophrenic tractor” and a tire company here in CA that did a horrible TV ad showing a man in a straitjacket in a padded cell trying to eat a cake with no hands. years ago I worked with Jean Arnold and Nora Weinerth for the National Stigma Clearinghouse. The idea was to go after major companies that ridiculed psychiatric illnesses, diagnoses, doctors, or anything associated with mental illness.

Stigma Fighters seems to be a venue for supportive communication and that’s good, but it doesn’t have much effect outside itself.  And I love the Semicolon Project idea!  A good image is worth a million words in terms of broad impact, and I hope that one can organize and grow into a significant movement.

Celebrities? Any day that a celeb states publicly that s/he is living with a psychiatric disorder is a good day. Americans adore and identify with celebs. (Not good for either Americans or the celebs, but nonetheless the way it is.)

What one change would you most like to see in the mental health care system?

One?  Have to go with funding. Funding for psych research; for psych hospital care for as long as it takes, not just a week or two; for clean, professionally staffed respite centers in every town; for attractive, professionally staffed halfway houses; for arts programs, job training, theater tickets – you know, the world?