Mindfulness

       Every therapist I’ve been to has tried to get me on board with mindfulness, which is basically a type of meditation, but I’ve always been very resistant to it because there is no way I am going to sit and meditate or listen to zen recordings, etc. The therapist I have now initially tried to get me on board by introducing me to Acceptance and Commitment Therapy but I only lasted a couple of chapters. It doesn’t matter how much it will help, I am never going to sit and think of meadows or chew my food a hundred times trying to identify each individual flavour. That’s just not happening. However, she recently started me on Dialectical Behavioural Therapy which takes a very different approach and so far seems actually doable. Now, I have been seeing my current therapist for about 18 months and she has been through almost every type of therapy out there with me, all of which have failed miserably. I give them a shot but usually end up thinking that the exercises are stupid and ineffective so she was relatively surprised when she managed to finally find something that I was on board with. 

       The main reason for starting me on this type of therapy was that I experience very extreme emotions and am incapable of calming myself down so I get desperate and turn to other people to talk me down. Unfortunately, most of them are just scared and overwhelmed by it (and probably not all that pleased either) so it ends up damaging the relationship. This type of therapy starts by teaching you distress tolerance, giving you ways to self-soothe when these emotions hit. In my opinion, this is way more effective than writing out your thoughts and trying to tell yourself they aren’t true. I haven’t experienced one of these episodes since I started this therapy so I don’t know how well it works for me but it just seems much more practical. It is also applicable to trying to fall asleep, something I often have trouble with, because falling asleep requires you to be able to self-soothe (apparently this is a skill I never learned). Anyway, I have now moved on to the next section of the workbook which is mindfulness and geesh why couldn’t all the other books be this straightforward?! Within the first two pages of the chapter I knew exactly what mindfulness entailed and how to practice it without meditating for an hour. Basically mindfulness is just being aware of the present moment, recognising when your attention wanders, and bringing your focus back to the current task. How difficult is that to explain? And you can practice it at any time: when you’re reading, watching TV, having a conversation, etc. As you continue to read they do give specific exercises you can do, some of which involve picturing meadows and clouds, but they are just options so if you aren’t into it you can just stick to the basics. Eventually all this practice is supposed to improve your concentration and reduce the time you spend worrying about future and past events, making you happier and less anxious, so we’ll see how that goes. For now I’m just glad that I don’t have to meditate every day.

The Ugly

     I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve managed to talk myself into a panic attack (thank you Lorazepam) because of worries stemming from my pre-diagnosis days or from recent episodes (medication can only do so much). Before I get into that though, this is probably a good time to describe myself before I was diagnosed and prescribed the proper medications. From what I hear, I was horrible to deal with and a force to be reckoned with. I mean, sometimes I had “normal” periods and wasn’t a burden to anyone but I think the manic and depressive episodes significantly outweighed these periods. I was never fully aware of what I was doing (and am still not) during the manic periods but I have a vague idea plus what I’ve been told from others that should allow me to piece together my psychotic era. I realise that generally you start with The Good, and then move onto The Bad, and finally The Ugly. However, in my case, the story is just ugly.  Since I’ve been diagnosed there has been some good and hopefully this will continue so I can write about it down the line but for now, it’s just ugly.

     First, there’s the inexplicable rage, irritabiliy and constant mood swings. I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve gone off on someone I care about for no apparent reason. From what I remember, I wasn’t provoked, there was nothing that could justify the onset of that amount of anger in such a short period of time. And I’m not talking about getting mad and telling someone off. I’m talking about full on rage: screaming, yelling, punching inanimate objects, etc. I left the people I care about feeling utterly terrified of me, of what I might do (although I never physically hurt anyone besides myself). [If they ever read this, once again, I am tremendously sorry. I know an apology isn’t enough and may mean nothing to some of you, but I will probably spend the rest of my life fretting and feeling guilty about what you had to go through with me.] If anything good can be said for these fits of rage, it would be that they occurred sporadically (ie. I wasn’t turning into The Hulk on a daily or weekly basis). The irritability and mood swings, on the other hand, were anything but sporadic. I was snarky and got annoyed with everyone regularly and could go from happy to sad to angry in 1.2 seconds. I didn’t want to be around anyone and some people had learned to recognise these periods and avoided me at all costs. Clearly, I was a delight!  

     Next, we have the debilitating depression and sometimes aggressive depression (part of which is the fits of rage I just mentioned) making me even more delightful to be around. I had no energy, no motivation, and most days I could barely get myself out of bed. I didn’t want to spend time with anyone, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to lay in bed and be sad. I had lost all hope and nothing seemed to matter anymore: school didn’t matter, family didn’t matter, friends didn’t matter. I felt so alone, no one could understand what I was feeling, and so I started pushing everyone I cared about away. I had chronic insomnia and would spend all night crying until I, unfortunately, turned to cutting. My brain forgot everything and focused solely on the pain, allowing the mental anguish I had been experiencing to dissipate at least for a little while. I finally felt some relief but was using the worst method possible to get it. After about a year of this, the aggressive depression set in.  When I say aggressive depression, I’m referring to the mixed state in bipolar disorder where you are technically having a depressive episode but at the same time are experiencing certain symptoms of mania. During these periods, I would be depressed to the point that I couldn’t get out of bed and wanted to die because I felt worthless and insignificant. Then the manic symptoms would set in, relentlessly urging me to act on the negative thoughts. [It could also go the other way where the drunken mania would become accompanied by depressive thoughts]. I was losing control. My mind was constantly racing. I became beyond desperate. I was screaming for help from people who couldn’t help me and ruining my relationships with these people in the process (what ADHD and BPD do best).  

[This blog post by another person with BPD pretty much sums it up: http://natashatracy.com/bipolar-disorder/attempt-suicide-not-die/].

     This last bit brings me to the point of this post which is the reason I cause myself to have panic attacks. I am now relatively aware of what people probably think about me after witnessing any of these episodes and unfortunately I can never take it back. I have created a reputation of being psychotic and unstable and there may not be much I can do to change this, especially since these episodes will still happen from time to time regardless of how strictly I stick to my treatment regimen. I’ve taken to spending most of my time home alone so that when the episodes strike there is no one there to witness them, but occassionally a bit of bad luck brings them on in public. I constantly worry that my future isn’t looking to bright and that I’ll never be stable enough to get where I want to be. All of this causes me to panic on a regular basis. If only the onset of a new year actually did wipe the slate clean and eliminate your past. I’ll soon be seeing yet another psychiatrist but hopefully she can help to make my life a bit more stable. I guess only time will tell.