Top ten bipolar disorder blogs ...

... as determined by John M. Grohol, Psy.D. and posted on September 12th. To view the list, click here.

Serenity precious to bipolar sufferer

This is one of the best descriptions of bipolar disorder that I have ever read. It was published in the Halifax Chronicle Herald on September 12, 2007.

By CHRISTINE STAPLETON

I HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED with a type of bipolar called hypomania. I am going to try to explain what it feels like to be bipolar — a form of depression characterized by severe mood swings.

When I am manic, I feel like a race horse in the gate, waiting for the bell. Sitting still for a hair appointment is almost impossible — one of the reasons I have let my hair go gray, or "silver," as I like to say. My thoughts race.

If I do become fixated on one thought, it consumes me. I become obsessed with thinking through every detail, possibility and outcome. This has made me a successful journalist.

Let me give you an example. I was once assigned to cover the case of a young man who walked into his parents’ bedroom and shot them as they slept. The father died. The mother lived.

Within moments of hearing the news, I had analyzed the entire case. Would the kid’s attorney ask a judge for a furlough so he could attend his father’s funeral?

Would the Department of Corrections allow the mother (the victim) on the visitor list of her son (the killer)? And would prosecutors subpoena the mother and force her testify against her only child — testimony that could put him in the electric chair?

Today, I analyze data for investigative projects. I can sit in front of my computer for hours, unaware of the time — amped on trying to find an answer.

Then there are the physical symptoms.

My muscles ache to be used. I exercise until my heart rate reaches 180 beats per minute. My off switch doesn’t work.

I once ran the last five miles of a marathon without shoes because they hurt my feet.

But when I am down, I want to be alone. Caller ID is my best friend. I don’t talk much. I do my work and try to look so busy that no one will bother me. I am not tired. I am weary. Life is bleak. Numb days roll by. I have no hope that life will get better.

In between, there can be long periods of feeling stable and content. Life is fine, except I’m waiting?

Today, the anxious ache that once welled up every time I inhaled is
gone. With the help of my therapist, my nurse practitioner and my medications, I now have an emotional floor beneath me.

Sadness and anxiety have expiration dates. I can pause when agitated. I understand that everyone is not entitled to my opinion.

I have serenity.

If you are not bipolar, I cannot describe how wonderful and amazing this feels — believing that you can trust your ability to handle your feelings and that you won’t lose these skills.

Life can be good.

Christine Stapleton writes for The Palm Beach Post, West Palm Beach, Florida.

Photo of Christine Stapleton courtesy of The Palm Beach Post.