I never noticed any obvious signs of being bipolar until I got to the rip old age of 39. Actually, a friend in highschool once told me I was bipolar offhandedly because she thought I was moody. I thought nothing of it. But here I am diagnosed with bipolar 1 disorder a mere 36 days before I turned 40. The therapist explained that in my manic episode, I didn’t have depressive drops after experiencing the manic episodes. So, it would have been harder to diagnose. But the day of my bipolar 1 diagnosis it felt like an ultimate defeat of myself. Like I had lost myself and something was going to be “rebirthed”, something completely foreign to what I had grown to understand as reality.
It’s an odd feeling to experience this sensation as I turn 40. It feels like “over the hill” 40 birthday parties and the resulting next 10 years most men are simplifying and getting more clarity in a different way than a “bipolar 1” way.
And here I am practically befuddled. What am I doing? I don’t know anymore. I mean, my goal is to keep going to work and to try and rest and play some. But to know where I’m going, to understand any “who am I” identity answers I think I mostly needed to go back rather than forward. That is, to gain some emotional clarity so that I can become more emotionally aware and at least learn how to tame my emotions more.
The thing that really brought out my bipolar 1 manic self, at least what I suppose it was, is my anger. To be sure, anger in my heart was wielded into quiet submission for years by suppressing rather than lashing out in rage. The rage moments I could count on my hand. I was proud of that fact and I could justify that as not having an anger issue. But, it was clear with this whole manic disorder that I needed to figure out my emotions, at least.
Regardless, what led up to my bipolar 1 diagnosis, was a week of traumatic events for me to get to the point in which I essentially needed to throw up my hands and relent, to literally give up trying.
It’s a weird feeling to literally release all semblance of control and give it over to your wife and a therapist. At least with my wife, it seems like this might be what God wanted with mutual submission. She watches out for my physical, emotional, and spiritual health and I hers, more so for each other than for ourselves. In this case she sensed I needed help and I didn’t. It’s difficult, especially when it seems that your ability to be happy is, to some degree, in their hands. Quite literally, the medication numbs my senses in order to protect my brain from having more manic episodes and so I can mentally rest. And for me, that meant, it keeps me feeling down. Not majorly depressed down, but slightly depressed down. It’s on the regular. Of course I didn’t know this until after the diagnosis, but I knew if I gave in that it would result in something horrendous. But, what exactly, I didn’t know. Other than my inability to control it all myself. Control my thoughts, reactions, feelings. You know, the basics.
When I consider the day I was diagnosed bipolar 1, I remember it being quite dreary, gloomy. Specifically walking out of the therapists office I recall one of being in awe of how he could take what we had presented as a verbal explanation of the past week and a half and he can correlate it to a bipolar 1 diagnosis. No brain scan, no blood test. Just pure psychological brain washing. Or, something. I don’t know. Either way there was a bit of relief but there was also a good bit of anger.
But then there was a lot more over the coming weeks and months. Honestly, I thought this might be a long road. But I had no idea how long.
I admit, the day of the diagnosis was a little bit easier to handle because it was light years better than what I had experienced just days earlier, learning to cohabitate with other psychological case studies in the mental institution.
But the moment of no return for me was when I was checked in. It was in my mind the worst thing that could possibly happen to me and the 3 days that transpired in the clinic. I mean, I’ve been at what I thought were worse moments. But the thought that I was out of my mind or that my thoughts were causing actions that were sick or too outlandish for what is “normal” or “consistent” with my personality, was too hard to swallow. And now I was going to “crazy land” where I would join an elite club of psycho. Where they were too worried about my sanity to give me a real pen because it could be used as a weapon. So they instead gave me a floppy one to be sure my scribbly writing further fit the bill of a crazy person.
And yet, in the midst of all this, what I was wanting to believe and still do today to some uncertain degree, is that God was leading me in the midst of the experience that others called a manic episode. He was doing things that were uncharacteristic, to be sure. But, the majority of it, say 95% seemed wonderful and just the way I would hope God to move in my life. But the other 5%, I’m not so sure.
But, I was unwilling, adamant, that I was not going into the mental institution. It was only when I received an “ultimatum” that was either I would prolong my time with in-home therapy to weeks and months or go in for one or maybe two nights, that I gave up and decided to get it over with. But of course, I made it worse by not realizing what I was walking into. I was mad as could be that I was going in and I wanted to make sure everyone knew this was a waste of my time and that I didn’t need anyone’s help. So I played games for a day or two. And, let’s just say the staff were pros at acting like they were my friends and totally cool with my attitude while also adding more qualifications to my resume of how sick they thought I was. It was only after I realized that I might actually be extending my stay by not playing along that I course corrected and just decided to play nice.
I had these images of them making us function more crazy in order to justify their existence. My wife literally told me they had diagnosed me as a lot of other things while I was in the facility, I’m sure due to my superb game playing. Fortunately the mental therapist that we worked after my visit simplified that list down to one: bipolar with a flair for manic.
All of this is really difficult for me to logically recount. Because it defies logic. At least what I understand as logic. But, the day I turned bipolar took me on a journey of self that defied my previous logic. Fortunately, I had recently connected with an emotional coaching program and they called me to schedule my first session as I was on the way to the mental institution. And then I began this program after I got out. It’s been my saving grace in a season where my only hope really feels as if it is relearning how to become emotionally aware, process my emotions in safe spaces, and learn to address cycles of negativity that I use to cope with anger, loneliness, sadness, shame, and guilt.
What I have learned is that the only things I can control are my responses. As much as possible at least. And the rest is about being aware of my emotions and learning to submit them to God. Doing the work of emotional coaching is frustrating because it stirs up emotions that I historically would just attempt to stuff down. But addressing negative emotional patterns has also required me to step away or step back from some things for seasons at a time that I normally would think was positive. But I do notice signs of improvement and growth. It’s just not anything close to what I would have imagined in my own mind. It’s a lot more desperate and often way less “churchy” than I would have envisioned.
I am not saying I have deconstructed my faith, I still believe in Jesus, but I come to passages in the Bible with a lot more emotion and I talk plainly with God about them. And some areas of participation in church functions that are typically good stir up negative emotions, so I’m removing them for now and praying for something new to stir up in my heart.
I don’t know what God is doing or wanting to do but it seems there is a major shift happening, not just my need to “take a break” and rest and play more. Though those are things. To be clear, I think people hear that someone is bipolar and then they’re worried about them getting stressed out or doing too much. But I’ve been stressed for 15 years at my work. And we’re not supposed to stop life. We can’t stop life. And we can’t stop stress necessarily. To me, mentally quitting would be the wrong kind of defeat.
On the other hand, the bipolar diagnosis has given me an obvious awareness of how much I need emotional coaching and even when I don’t notice clear results, I know it’s helping. In the past I would have quit earlier because I wouldn’t think the cost is worth the investment. But this time it’s like my biggest path forward.
The bipolar diagnosis and starting emotional coaching has coincided with a lot of movement that I’m seeing in other areas of my life. And I’m wrestling with how much to “do” rather than just learn to wait for God to do what He wants, as He wants it. And probably most of this is me learning to be patient rather than expect God to move immediately. To wait.
For now, I often sit in silence with often no words. In many cases I have a sad or lonely demeanor. If I’m not sitting in silence I’m working with my hands to give myself something to do. Thankfully God gave my wife and I a natural place to do this, with a house renovation that we’ve been working on. It’s been a real gift for me in this season where I work on a computer in my day job.
I am almost a year out from my initial bipolar 1 diagnosis, but I am making my way slowly and surely. I thought it might be helpful to provide a recommendation for someone diagnosed with bipolar 1. For starters:
- Emotional coaching from a biblical counselor
- Find ways to rest and play, prioritize being close to those who are safe
- Work with your hands or take walks, get your mind “free” and out of the digital “clouds” as much as you can
- Find a few friends who you can be real with who won’t shame you or judge you, so you can rebuild how you approach the world and release your anger and need for approval from the men that you seek it from.