Bipolar Me

I had a right to be angry. I had been gaslighted. I had suffered emotional and verbal abuse.

He told me that when I couldn’t answer his accusations, he wanted to kick me. He made up an obscene song as a “tribute” to me and gleefully sang it to his friends. He said that when I wanted to use the bathroom with the door closed, it was a sign that I wasn’t “open enough.” Once he left me to sleep in the car on the streets of Buffalo while he went to a party. He asked me what I would have done if he were not “supporting” me. When I made a mistake with some guests, he said I had “besmirched his honor.” When I told him the singers I listened to were popular, he replied, “Eat shit. Twenty million flies can’t be wrong.” He started an affair with my best friend and invited her into our bed.

When I got him to go to couples counseling, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to, because he and the therapist could have me hospitalized. I retreated into self-harm and self-medication with alcohol.

I lived with this for a year with no way of escape except to a separate room in the house, which I began to pay him rent for. My parents came to town for my college graduation and refused to come into his house.

He never hit me. I always swore I would never stay with a man who hit me, no second chances. But he didn’t, so I stayed. When I finally left, while he was at work, he threatened to call the police on me in case I stole any of his belongings.

When I left, I swore I didn’t feel any anger. Denial and numbness were my reactions at that point. A little later, when my feelings started to return, I had minor, ineffectual revenge fantasies, none of which I ever carried out. I started reading about battered women, learned helplessness, and even brainwashing, trying to get a handle on what had happened and why I had stayed as long as I did.

I was clinically depressed, of course (not yet diagnosed as bipolar). And this was back in the days when the standard definition of depression was “anger turned inward.” So, in effect, the mental health community was blaming me for my own anger and depression. I didn’t know enough to be angry about that, either.

I’ve carried that anger with me ever since, for decades. I’ve gotten past most parts of it, but it still haunts me from time to time. I have dreams and flashbacks, which led one therapist to say that I had PTSD. I didn’t believe it at the time, but now I wonder.

Recently, I’ve done some reading on bipolar anger. Among the ways that it affects you, I learned, are friends avoiding you, family not wanting to have meaningful discussions with you, and receiving reprimands at work. I’ve experienced all of those. The sources say that bipolar anger can manifest as anything from irritability to rage. I’ve experienced those too. My rage came when I finally realized that the abuse never should have happened, and that my abuser would never feel a speck of remorse for what he’d done.

A lot of the anger was kept brewing inside me. I’d like to think that I didn’t let it show, but I know I did. It would come out unexpectedly as sarcastic comments that drove people away, for example, and when I was in one of my longest and deepest depressive episodes, as irrational anger at my husband. I remember one particular time when I yelled at him and called him a racist, which he certainly isn’t.

Most of what I’ve read to do about bipolar anger boils down to anger management: avoid your triggers, take your meds, keep stress in check, and talk with a therapist. I’ve never gone through anger management therapy, but I’m not sure if it would work under my particular circumstances. I’ve taken all those steps just dealing with my bipolar disorder, anyway.

Then recently, I saw a meme on Facebook credited to Minds Journal that said, “I sat with my anger long enough, until she told me her real name was grief.” That started me thinking. What if my anger was really grief? I had lived so long with the anger. Was I unable to recognize its true nature?

Examining what happened and my reactions, I have to say that it’s likely. I actually have plenty of reasons for grief – that I was so naive, that my first really significant love relationship was so abusive, that it took me so long to realize it, that it had affected my relationship with my parents, and that the relationship I had been so invested in was based on nothing.

Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross is deservedly famous for her paradigm of the Five Stages of Grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I’ve sat with denial, anger, and depression for a long time. If I’m honest, there was probably some bargaining in there too, which I understand stems from guilt and shame. If only I’d been a better judge of people; if only I’d gotten out sooner; if only I’d never done any of the things I did, from hooking up with him in the first place to letting him control both my feelings and behavior. (And yes, I gave him control. I didn’t stand up for myself. At the time, I didn’t know how, or even that I should.)

So, am I now sitting with my grief? I can’t say that I’ve reached the stage of acceptance. But I’m willing to own my grief and let go of my anger. Maybe in time, I’ll get to acceptance.

This post originally appeared on The Mighty (themighty.com).

There are many different occasions when you may find yourself hearing voices. Usually, you only hear the voices of people who are physically in the room or on the phone or chat speaking to you. But sometimes the voices aren’t real, and that can be a cause for worry.

One thing that bipolar people fear is developing – or having – psychosis. And one of the major symptoms of psychosis is hearing voices that seem to come from outside you when no one is actually speaking to you. Psychosis is not a disorder, but a symptom. Most often associated with schizophrenia, psychosis involves detachment from reality and delusions of things that are not real. Among the possible delusions is that other voices are speaking to you from another realm.

This can be the television or satellites sending secret messages to you. It can involve demons that are trying to take over your brain and even your body. Often, voices of angels or demons are signs of psychosis. (Sometimes, some people experience a voice that comes from a higher power and ascribe it to a supernatural cause. Is this psychosis? Some people think so, and others perceive it as a different form of reality. If the voice instructs you to do harm to yourself or others, it’s probably psychosis.)

If people with bipolar disorder have the experience of hearing voices, it usually comes during manic episodes, though it can also occur during depressive ones. The initial symptoms of bipolar psychosis are often indistinguishable from other symptoms of the disorder – anxiety, difficulty communicating or concentrating, or flat affect (the blunting of emotional expression). Unwarranted suspicion of others is another sign that something may be amiss. Support groups or “accountability partners” can help a person recognize and cope when they believe they are about to experience psychosis.

Psychosis can be frightening to the person experiencing it and to the people around them, or it can be something that the psychotic person doesn’t even notice (anosognosia). It should be noted that hallucinations and/or delusions can be caused by other problems, such as a brain tumor, dementia, or a bad reaction to medication. My mother experienced the latter when taking a new pain medication, though it was a case of seeing things that weren’t there rather than hearing them.

Psychosis can be treated, but not cured, by a variety of psychotropic medications that reduce the experience of hearing voices. These include mood stabilizers, antidepressants, or anti-psychotic medications. (A person with bipolar disorder may already be taking some of these.) They should be monitored closely by a psychiatrist.

Another example of hearing voices, though, is the inner voice that most of us – especially those with mood disorders – experience regularly. Most of the time it is an “inner critic,” bringing us down with negative self-talk, telling us that we’re worthless or can’t do anything right. This is not a form of psychosis, but can definitely be associated with stress, depression, and anxiety. It might say anything from “You’re fat and you’ll never lose weight” to “You can’t do math” to “The people at work aren’t really your friends. They treat you nicely because they have to.”

These inner voices and negative self-talk can be reinforced by the real voices of other people as well. A family member might say, “You’re really not good at picking boyfriends” or “You’re never on time for anything” or “You just can’t drive in traffic.” If you start to believe these messages and those of your inner critic, they can be self-fulfilling prophecies. If you believe that you don’t deserve respect and friendship, those thoughts will influence your actions, leading to other people perceiving you that way as well.

But if you have an inner critic, you also have – or at least can cultivate – an inner champion. There are ways to empower yourself through positive self-talk. It’s not quick or easy. Daily affirmations can help. You can try them whenever you “hear” your inner critic dissing you. First, say, “Stop!” Derail that negative thought right away. Then replace the thought with a more accurate one – “I’m not worthless. I got out of bed and out of the house today,” if that’s your small triumph.

Daily affirmations are good too. You can try looking in the mirror in the morning and saying something positive about yourself. It’s better if it’s really specific, but it’s okay if it’s just “I am a good person.” Some experts recommend personalizing the positive feedback using the second person – “You made it to work on time yesterday” – or even using your name as you think or say, “Janet, you took a shower today.”

Affirmations that stifle your inner critic and build up your inner champion may not be a cure for psychosis or bipolar disorder, but they can help with the problems of anxiety and depression that so many people with mood disorders face on a daily basis. For that reason alone, it’s worth a try.