The Hidden Masquerades & Mutuality.

My story is about a friendship I formed two years ago, it seems like much longer. We were two sad little girls sitting all alone with attachment issues.

One of my many nights of drinking, excessive drinking. ‘Classily’ indulging in two bottles of wine to myself, past the point of inebriation. Tonight was new, it was her house. She was this small eccentric ball of fun, like a small child chasing the butterflies. She was beautiful, so comfortable and alluring in her uniqueness. In my own way I was fascinated and mesmerised by how she drew people to her. I didn’t realise then the underlying toll that she was putting on herself by being part of this social gathering, by pretending to fit in.

The hours slowly passed and I was drunker(I wonder how that was even possible), thinking that I might make a pass at her but undecided if she was interested. It wasn’t what I expected when I walked into the dark room where she had been sitting, quietly isolating herself from the others with tears falling down her face. All my intentions quickly dissipated, this was different, this was real. Her body shook, physically racked by her emotions. I sat across from her, waiting for her to speak, uncertain if I should embrace her. Through the tears and jumbled words I found out that today was her dad’s birthday, her dad who had willingly taken his own life, like my own had.

I understood too well the pain that the selfish action causes to those around them. I asked her about him, trying to calm her breathing, I later confided in her something that only a handful of my closest friends new, the inner workings of person who also suffered from the abandonment of one’s parent, the build of attachment and trust issues. The deaths created foundations for our negative mental health. In her, I saw myself, I was the quieter subtly version of her, but we were still the same. Our friendship grew on the mutual hurt created by our parents. No one else understood in its entirety, no one could relate.

Her anxiety ruled her every day, not always able to leave the house. She would sit under all the covers on her bed, waiting for the day to be over, finding some comfort in the warmth. Her heart would start beating so fast, the quick panic written on her face, I could rarely calm her. The simplest of things would make her over-analyse, layer and layer of potential bad would fill her thoughts. The triggers making her fight the waves of nausea and the shaking confusion that would afflict her. I couldn’t make her panic go away, she was immune to the calm voices around her, the panic amplifying. I loved her and I still love her, she is a beautiful person that is slowly finding stability now, being more comfortable and happy for the first time in a year. I saw her the other day, the difference was overwhelming. In my own way I was the extremely proud mother.

My pocket rocket.

Alice & Her Attempt At Leaving Wonderland.

It’s been cold in your shadow, my shadow. Never having sunshine on my face, your face. I have always been content to let you shine, to let me shine. I always walked a step behind myself. I was the one with all the strength, a beautiful face without a name for so long, a beautiful smile that hid the pain.

Having an epiphany when two facets of yourself become one, the one the world knows and the quiet self-conscious one inside, the one who stared out of the windows of life, not participating, merely watching and wondering why I couldn’t be both.

(Featured image: Girl walking up hill – by me 🙂 )

My new thoughts consist of pretending that I’m the normal person in the crowd, my boyfriend has found out the truth though, he has seen my scars, he holds me, asking me if I’m alright. The quick answer of “yes” always ready. Last night I told him I was fine, that I was bipolar and that it doesn’t affect me. These are the nice lies that I also tell to myself. He tells me that my scars and disorder hasn’t pushed him away, but I always wonder. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t see me for my scars. My quick smiles use to hide the sadness in my eyes, but now they are simply smiles. I won’t cut tonight, in my mind that chapter is slowly getting closed.

I don’t need the balance that I found in the blade and the simple ritualistic movements. The never-ending perplexity of non-suicidal self-injury. My happiness and depression making me question what really separates the genius from the madman? New ideas and thought processes are created by people living on the edge instead of the norm. I’m stumped that Bipolar Disorder keeps on getting referred to as a ‘beast of an illness’, it is what it is, you make the most of it, the negatives are only what you make of them. Someone once told me that I’m a ‘beautiful tragedy’, it made me completely disheartened, this happened even before my diagnosis, this was an asterism (a manner of deriding another), these conflicting words made me realise that the only real tragedy was them and their ignorant concept of beauty. At that point in life I was incapable of helping or ‘fixing’ myself, yet people asked me to fix their problems…ironic.

There wasn’t any room left for tears. I’m not that person anymore, thankfully. It’s become silly and trivial, I’m 22 and bored with the useless criticisms from myself and others, life is simply too short. Feeling ‘happiness’ has allowed me to no longer feel like the abandoned shipwreck, finding deep inside a small seed of happiness that I could allow to grow. There seems to be constantly different peaks in my life where at times I feel like I’m running an emergency room without morphine. I’m actually happier than I’ve been in over a year, I’m slowly replacing all my excessive black clothing with the colours that I had squashed to the back of my wardrobe, with the purpose of never finding them or needing them again. People start to get in a cycle where they stop believing in the possibility of being happy because the darkness becomes so consuming and comforting.

The World Is His Oyster: Talking About ADHD

To be perfectly honest I don’t know much about ADHD, one of my close friends was recently diagnosed at 21 years old. He wondered how he got to that age with no one noticing, in a way he was let down by both the schooling system and his family. If he has gotten to where he is today completely on his own he believes that it has made him a stronger person. My friend is now taking Ritalin, feeling clear headed for the first time ever, his anxiety is gone, all he sees now is the potential of the world and how it has become (to a degree) limitless. As he was confessing his mental illness to me, I started to think that I had never seen him so happy, he couldn’t keep the smile off this face, and he even had more confidence when he was speaking then in all the years I’ve known him.

My friend had originally only gone to the doctors for help with his anxiety, the doctor diagnosing him as also depressed when he wasn’t, the antidepressants his doctor prescribed him did nothing. He was later sent to a psychiatrist and diagnosed with ADHD, I’ve never met someone who is so happy to be diagnosed. He just keeps saying “if I got that far without being diagnosed, I wonder what I could do now, considering I can actually focus and pay attention”. He had already completed an IT course at Tafe and was climbing the career ladder at his work but he is now considering psychology. He is a really smart person, no one realised though. My friend’s ADHD was left unrecognised for so long because he didn’t exhibit hyperactivity, it is apparently extremely common for adults to get diagnosed with ADHD without hyperactivity as it wasn’t recognised when they were children and adolescents. The world has truly become his oyster.

The Anti-Grinch.

There are so many people posting that they hate Christmas, I love Christmas, the inner child in me loves the concept and I still get presents from Santa even at 22. I get to see my extended family that I only get to see once a year because I work crappy hours and they always seem genuinely happy to see me, with only the occasional comment about all the black clothing I wear. Happy holidays x

#foxysanta

Here in Australia Christmas is hot and Santa is extremely fat 😉

The Mental Illness Soapbox.

It’s beginning to feel like I’ve been in a long term relationship or dead-end marriage with mental illness. The bipolar black hole is so intense and consuming, eh…I’m even sick of myself. *Bipolar has officially killed the prom queen*

The Blame Game: Antidepressants Cause Bipolar Disorder?!

Previously the older anti-depressants were notorious for triggering or precipitating (hypo)manic episodes in Bipolar patients, newer antidepressants such as SSRIs, bupropion and venlafaxine, do not appear as likely to precipitate mania. Both the mood stabilisers lamotrigine (Lamictal) and Topiramate (Topamax) don’t carry a risk of inducing mania.  In the DSM-IV and DSM-V (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) stipulates that diagnosing a person with Bipolar Disorder has to fit these criteria:

Criteria F: The episode is not attributable to the physiological effects of a substance (e.g. a drug of abuse, a medication, other treatment).
Note: A full hypomanic episode that emerges during antidepressant treatment (e.g. medication, electroconvulsive therapy) but persists at a fully syndromal level beyond the physiological effect of that treatment is sufficient evidence of a hypomanic episode diagnosis(My note: most* antidepressants other than Prozac are out of your system in a week). However, caution is indicated so that one or two symptoms (particularly in creased irritability, edginess, or agitation following antidepressant use) are not taken as sufficient for diagnosis of a hypomanic episode, not necessarily indicative of a bipolar diathesis.

Very sneaky phrasing of words.

It has been asserted that antidepressants can act as triggers for (hypo)manic episodes in people who have a higher likelihood of Bipolar Disorder (depression, history & environmental factors etc.). It has been argued that having a (hypo)manic reaction to an antidepressant is not necessarily a symptom of Bipolar Disorder, arguing it’s a manic reaction to the antidepressant. This form of argument can only be assessed by being aware of what antidepressant you’re taking, newer antidepressants have very little chance of inducing mania (rare side effect : <0.1% chance mostly). I had initially blamed the antidepressant for causing my ‘bipolar symptoms’, this has now been changed, I was on Mirtazapine (given to me because of a family history of Bipolar I – this antidepressant had the <0.1% chance of inducing hypomania, agitation, aggression, risk taking, confidence, confusion and insomnia. All of which I experienced long after the antidepressant had left my system).

Symptoms of (hypo)mania need to persist after the life of the antidepressant: A manic reaction to antidepressants is not a symptom of bipolar, it’s a manic reaction to antidepressants. Therefore people who have a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder who have a manic reaction to anti-depressants, doesn’t consequently mean that it’s Bipolar Disorder.  Symptoms of bipolar (hypo)mania are sometimes about being more irritable, edge and agitated, but these symptoms don’t mean it’s bipolar, they are generally symptoms of the antidepressant or its withdrawal. Sometimes it’s about surviving psychiatry. A test study about the activation of (hypo)mania states that it occurred approximately 0.2% (3/1299 patients) of Remeron-treated patients in US studies. Although the incidence of mania/hypomania was very low during treatment with mirtazapine, it should be used carefully in patients with a history of mania/hypomania.

The following symptoms, anxiety, agitation, panic attacks, insomnia, irritability, hostility, aggressiveness, impulsivity, akathisia (psychomotor restlessness), hypomania, and mania, have been reported in people treated with (older)antidepressants for major depressive disorder. Before being prescribed antidepressants your doctor should be aware of your medical history or family history of psychiatric disorders (e.g., bipolar/manic-depressive disorder), history or family history of suicide attempts. To be diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder the new DSM-V has included the criteria that the person has to not only have the presence of elated or irritable mood but also the association of these symptoms with increased energy/activity.

Personal analysis: I’m not sure if I had suffered from hypomania before, every summer I would work out excessively and sleep little, this was only for the past 2years, but after Remeron (Mirtazapine) everything changed. My research was carried out on the premise of proving my psychiatrist wrong in my diagnosis. I had slowly put together my argument until I had looked up my antidepressant and the time it takes to leave my body. I now have to acknowledge that I no longer have an argument; my hypomania lasted well after the antidepressant had left my system and later returned when my mood stabiliser dose was reduced so that I could change medications. If anyone else has doubts about their diagnosis it is well worth the research into the causation of your (hypo)manic episode, if it was from an antidepressant find out how long your episode lasted and the time is takes for the antidepressant to leave your body.

To make up for this realization is the knowledge that I had an awesome day in Luna Park at Sydney, here is some snaps 🙂

Two Introverts Sitting In A Tree.

Don’t underestimate the ineloquent man. He had been quiet all night; slowly his bottles of beer started to empty, he turns to me, knowing full well that we are very much the same. The alcohol making his shyness dissipate. He opens his mouth, brash yet philosophical words spill out, the words making perfect sense. Our repartee goes on; the party doesn’t notice our quiet isolation within the circle, keeping to ourselves. We don’t feel recharged by participating in the social gathering, preferring the company of one person like ourselves or on our own. The silence is nearly always welcomed. Everyone else is exchanging the niceties and frivolous conversations about the drama that seems to rule their lives, sometimes it’s nice to just forget about the drama. Our conversation is on the analysis of why society is slowly trying to force people to become extroverts in order to succeed in life.

The discussion becomes more heated, no one notices, everyone keeps downing their drinks, mine remains untouched as I sit on the edge of my chair exchanging worldviews with the most unassuming and unobtrusive yet knowledgeable person I’ve met in a long while, the surprise is most welcome. At the end of the night before the party proceeds to head to the clubs I ask him why he chose me to talk to. He responded by saying that he had watched me, noticing how I waited in the group watching and hearing everyone, yet contributing nothing, knowing full well that their conversations and accepted social niceties held absolutely no appeal to me and himself, our shared mutual interests made us feel sociable that night, yet we hadn’t been.

For all the noise that the other people were making, we had become unaware; we had mutually forsaken everyone’s company for our own. Our facade of participating in the group conversations lasted the night, our pretence of caring about the conversations of the group came to an end. My night was exactly what I needed. I was pleasantly surprised that I had underestimated the seemingly unremarkable man that I hadn’t given a second glance. He had used words with great meaning, yet I had originally rejected this potential as a conversationalist due to his inarticulate speech, I’m happy to say I was very wrong and won’t be making the same mistake in the future.

An Attempt At Being Truthful About Suicide & Media Correlations.

I would think about suicide often, with a morbidly intense curiosity, never with the ability to carry out any plans. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the day after the act, thinking of what I would be doing. My misconceptions of death were my driving interest, pivotal to understanding the finality associated with death which I clearly didn’t comprehend. I started to think of suicide at 7 years old, not in any strong capacity, a more unhealthy preoccupation about something I didn’t understand. Death scared me, the thoughts kept me up late at night; I would always think “what if I wasn’t around? Would things be better? Would I be better off?”.

A child is given the simple idea that when people die they go to ‘sleep’, they look asleep and as far as their parents are concerned the pets went to ‘sleep’ when they were put down. Early on we are given these ideas, fragmented concepts that hide actual truths. All through my school life my preoccupation was present, not always in the forefront of my thoughts, but always present none the less. In my mind I doubt I would ever have the nerve to carry out the act, the thought of blood stilling or hearts stopping makes me recoil away, intentional death becomes a monstrous act. It’s a monstrous act because most intentional acts of death are forms of violence and anger, sometimes premeditated or acts of manslaughter. Society negates death in such a light that even for ethical reasons it will always be frowned upon.

I write this after successfully drinking a bottle of red wine and finding out that a work colleague had opening tried to commit suicide on numerous occasions, publicised in our local paper about the realness of teen suicide and awareness. It made me wonder if I was just like her, except I wasn’t, I might be more sadistic and morbid, but I had no intentions, my suicide ponderings were not only during depression but also during times of great happiness in my life. I start to question why a person who is happy actually contemplates suicide on a regular basis. No person can adequately contrast their personal experiences or their inner turmoils, each individual is innately different with how they interpret and experience life as a whole. I start to wonder if this is a normal state for people or am I outside the norm without realising it, can it simply be that the norm is whatever a person wants to make it, what is normal for one person isn’t always normal for another.

I’m starting to question my own mental health awareness advocacy, I want people to be aware, but what they do with that information is entirely up to the person. It’s strange that I actually frowned the whole time of was reading my colleagues article, whose work pretence was good I will admit, but does admitting mental illness to a wider audience actually help yourself or is it merely about raising a generalised awareness to a public that is generally overwhelmed with other stimuli offered by media that dominates their thoughts? My pretence is focused more internally, I prefer to write, be anonymous, protecting myself, protecting my family from the hurt if they knew the truths from my writings. Putting an article in the local newspaper is following a new trend to make mental illness a ‘trending’ topic, highlighting its need for change and help.

I see the publications as sometimes detrimental, people start to only see the negatives associated with mental illness, the overloading of negatives creating the stigma that so many people in the mental health awareness advocacy are trying to remove. The publications are trying to make the public more aware, but they are failing to educate to a higher extent, the public doesn’t understand mental illness to any great degree, they see and read its consequences and why it’s an issue, but they fail to understand why some people suffer from mental illness and why others do not. They can even read the symptoms that people suffer, but that doesn’t make the content relatable. Yes this is a depressing post, but it allows me to vent the rage about mental illness and media, in its own way it’s a form of censorship. Only those who experience mental illness can help others, public media doesn’t always have to be the way to achieve this, often categorising and pigeon-holing mental illness creating misconceptions. End rant. Thankyou wine for allowing me to write tonight.

Analysis Of Happiness & Mania. Part I

Analysis of Happiness & Mania

Defined:

To first understand happiness it needs to be defined. Happiness is seen as a complete, lasting and justified satisfaction with one’s life. Although if one has to justify their happiness it is no longer experienced subjectively, becoming objectively grounded. It has to be understood that there is no standardised rules to measure a person’s happiness as they are dependent on a person’s pre-dispositions.

Background:

Two philosophical schools who look at the concept of happiness, the ancient, which arose in Greece and survived until the 18th century, and the modern, which was created in the 19th century in Europe. Happiness was originally perceived as the possession of the highest goods, whether of a material or spiritual kind. Happiness later became subjectivized and relativized, based on a person’s overall satisfaction with life.

Happiness & Mental Health: The Darker Side of Happiness.

Happiness is usually conveyed as a source of good outcomes, highlighting the pursuit of important goals, social bonds, well-being and psychological health. In some instances the pursuit and experience of happiness can create negative outcomes. Happiness is generally highly beneficial but this is completely reliant on the context it is experienced in and the level of happiness.

“Getting angry . . . is easy and everyone can do it; but doing it . . . in the right amount, at the right time, and for the right end, and in the right way is no longer easy, nor can everyone do it.” —Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics (II.9, 1109a27)

Potentially high levels of happiness can become a source of dysfunction, research often highlights that happiness is beneficial, yet psychologically it can become maladaptive. The maladaptive nature of happiness suggests that it has a possible ‘dark side’. People have argued that excessive levels of any mental state or experience—including happiness—can be undesirable and unhealthy. In relation to mania and the euphoric or heightened level of happiness (which is also experienced in hypomania) individuals are more inclined to engage in riskier behaviours, such as alcohol consumption, binge eating, and drug use. Extreme levels of happiness become a marker for emotional dysfunction.

The extremely positive emotion that is associated with mania undermines the person’s ability to experience negative emotions, trapped in a form of happiness overdrive and incapable of downshifting happiness. Excessive happiness leads to risky behaviour and neglect of threats and consequences. Extreme happiness seen through the lens of mania suggests that the emotion creates dysfunctional behaviours which result in poorer clinical functioning. The pursuit and achievement of happiness can no longer be seen as a hallmark for psychological health.

Subjective Bipolar Perception:

I had always imagined that happiness was a sign that I was getting better. After recently getting better from the pit that is depression, I keep wondering if this new happiness is real, or a daydream or merely a new page to living with bipolar. I have to remember that bipolar is part of who I am and why I feel things, but it never stops me from questioning the reasons for my emotional experiences and whether the emotions are manifestations of my illness or the signs of getting better. How can anyone fully differentiate between the two? It’s frustrating to say the least. To me there is great value in experiencing depression, without experiencing the worst aspects of your life you will never be able to completely appreciate the positive times. I can understand and relate to the all-consuming mania or hypomanic emotional overdrive, my personal experiences with hypomania made me incapable of understanding the consequences or perceive the drastic contrasts between my current state and depression, there was no room to understand other emotions.

This is truly my wonderland, a handful of pills keeping the bipolar at bay. The pills mediating a mid-line of emotions that are both boring and uninteresting. Unlike the majority of the population, people with Bipolar Disorder can actually reach the usually unobtainable level of happiness that society seems to always be aiming for, our level of happiness only becoming wrong when it makes us dysfunctional.

A Dark Side of Happiness? How, When, and Why Happiness Is Not Always Good. June Gruber, Iris B. Mauss and Maya Tamir. Perspectives on Psychological Science, Vol. 6, No. 3 (MAY 2011), pp. 222-233

Analysis of Happiness by W. Tatarkiewicz. Review by: E. R. The Review of Metaphysics, Vol. 32, No. 3 (Mar., 1979), pp. 569-570

Analysis of Happiness by Wladyslaw Tatarkiewicz. Review by: Max Rieser. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 38, No. 1 (Sep., 1977), pp. 139-140

Lamictal (Lamotrigine): A Review. Part II

I haven’t gained any weight from being on Lamictal, it’s a weight neutral mood stabilizer. My psychiatrist has also informed me that it is the only medication I should be on (other than sleep meds), as it targets both mania/hypomania and depression, he also asserts that Bipolar Disorder sufferers shouldn’t also be put on anti-depressants combined with mood-stabilizers. He offered me the quick fix of Lithium when I was on a downward slope, telling me I’d be a ‘new woman’ within a week. I know Lithium is the top-shelf mood-stabilizer, but I’m also shallow and self-conscious enough that I don’t want to get fat. Lithium for me also has negative associations, I use to think of it only being prescribed to those ‘hardcore’ cases, but then again maybe I am a ‘hardcore’ case. Maybe I’m not bipolar, think I might argue with my psychologist on Thursday.

They have increased my dose on Lamictal, it wasn’t doing enough at the time, especially in contrast to Epilim which fixed me quick, but made me gain weight through excessive carb cravings. Overall I think this is a good medication once you get to the right dosage, I think they will slowly titrate my dose up until I have no lows or extreme highs. If you are self-conscious of weight-gain from bipolar medication: THIS is the drug for you, but be aware that you have to increase your dose slowly, so the effects aren’t instantly noticeable. Now I should just focus on losing the weight the other drugs made me gain…not fun.

I have a great appreciation for the ‘crazy meds’ site, giving funny yet knowledgeable and relatable twists on medication. I’ve been diagnosed as Bipolar 2, yet my reaction was more like Bipolar 1. As follows:

4.2  Bipolar 2

Generally considered to be the best drug on the market for bipolar 2. While there are always conflicting data, your mileage may vary, yadda yadda yadda, with its track record for efficacy and other factors, Lamictal should be the first med considered, but not necessarily the first med used, by many, if not most people diagnosed with bipolar 2.

4.3  Bipolar 1

If you take it like the FDA tells you to – after being stable on another med – the chances are pretty good you’ll stay stable. If you start it while manic¹ or only mild-to-moderately depressed and aren’t taking, let alone stable, on another med, expect to be bouncing off the ceiling and have your cycling sped up.

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My reaction was exactly like Bipolar 1’s statement, I was taken too quickly off Epilim which was replaced by Lamictal, I guess I migh’t have been completely stable when I made the transition between the two. I was lowering my dose of Epilim and replacing it with Lamictal. I don’t know what happened really, it felt like a low-level hypomania, but with the increased dose I’m starting to feel less agitated, although i sleep extremely poorly and often have night terrors when I do sleep.

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Lamictal’s Pros and Cons

7.1  Pros

The best medication on the market to deal with bipolar depression without the risks of mania or lowering the seizure threshold associated with antidepressants. Weight neutral. One of the safest meds to use during pregnancy. The side effects suck less than the other meds with FDA approval for maintenance treatment of bipolar disorder.

7.2  Cons

That “without the risk of mania” is only after you’re taking enough. You might get a little too happy the first couple of weeks. Easily affected by drug-drug interactions, in spite of being metabolized in such a way that only a few meds should affect it. Can mess with your skin in all sorts of ways that could cause you to panic and stop taking it when you don’t have to.

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