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II.


Once I graduated, I was no longer in a sheltered enviroment. I became subject to many different stressors. I didn't find a job in my field of art education. I took a position as a department store area sales manager. The job kept odd/hard working hours. I had a long commute as well.

After my inital episode, I began searching for bigger answers to my hard questions (why did this happen, who am I, what am I on earth for, etc.). When I graduated, I moved to another state to live with a relative. I became very involved in a church during that time. The church provided many needs---friends, purpose, catharsis, a sense of stability and shelter, etc.

The beliefs of my church were that of Christian charismatics. It seemed to fit me very well because it was a robust church filled with people, activities, and cultural diversity. It fostered the arts as well.

I was seeing a psychiatrist through a city-run organization. That was the first time I actually got to explore my medical history a bit. I did not get to do so when I was at my dad's. And the university psychiatrist was very "old school" so he did not believe in allowing his patients to view their own records.

My records relayed my period of psychosis during my manic episode. I was absorbed by thoughts of God and the devil. I reverted back to childhood in my thinking (playing ring-around-the rosy, etc.). I was energetic beyond the norm. My thoughts clicked from one to another without cessation.

I could remember many bizarre snip-its of my experience on my own. The records helped to fill in the gaps. However, some time and experience will be forever lost because there was no constant observer.

I began to understand some aspects of my illness. I began to put a name to it. I began to identify with some of the symptoms. I did not, however understand that my Lithium was not a cure. And, I did not understand the mechanics of how Lithium worked. I got Lithium levels done regularly because my doctor asked me to. I did not know what the Lithium levels were all about.

Bipolar Disease is a subtle illness. It is physical in origin but it effects every part of the mind. I did not understand the repercussions of that.

A number of factors combined to set the stage for my next episode.

The stage for my illness was set. I had, unbeknownst to me, been experiencing the Bipolar cycle since my original manic episode when I was hospitalized. I experienced hypomania on and off for six years. My depressions were less intense during that time but I did have episodes of them as well.

I went to Hong Kong in a state of hypomania. I did not recognize my physical/mental state as such and neither did my family or friends. My hypomania was seen as a trait of who I was. My personality and hypomania were merged---just as my depression was, also merged. I was classified as fiery in temperament. I was classified as melancholic. I was labeled moody. Yet, no one ever saw my illness as being in action.

I tried to get medical treatment while I was in Hong Kong. The doctor I saw was a general practioner. He prescribed my medication. He said nothing about Lithium levels. In addition, the dosage levels from country to country were different. The doctor asked ME which dose was preferrable: one that was 50mg. higher or one the was 50 mg. lower. I said lower because I had experienced toxicity when I was intially put on Lithium and I did not want that. I, also, took that as a sign that the dosage was just a range and not too critical. (I did not understand how my medication worked---I just knew I needed to be on it permanently)

Signs were present that indicated my illness was not being managed. I didn't know how to recognize them. My dose was lower than the safe range. It remained low for months. My body was, also, ridding itself daily of nutrients and medication because of bacteria in my food as well as the high amount of physical exercise I was getting.

Somewhere during that time, I, also, allowed myself to believe everything that people said about my illness...that it was not really a disease, that I just needed to believe and God would heal me.

All of these factors contributed to the episode that occurred in Hong Kong. I went to a friend's house for the weekend. She lived on an outlying island. It took two hours to get there. Half way there, I realized I had forgotten my meds. I adopted an "Oh Well" attitude because I had missed doses previously with no repercussion (or so I perceived). I would take it tomorrow, I thought. That night I did not sleep, my brain raced, it felt free, crystal clear, creative. I felt so in touch with God as I sat upon a cliff overlooking the ocean listening to Steven Curtis Chapman music which sang of being up on the mountain. I was crescendoing into an explosive, psychotic mania. When I reached home, I cut my medications in half---I was convinced they were killing me and God wanted me to stop them.

By Chinese New Year, a month later, I was fully manic. My creativity became real in my mind. Fantasy became live. I saw wonderful, amazing things. I had no sense of the real world things that were happening around me. I was hospitalized. My ward was entirely Chinese. Only a few of the staff spoke English. I spoke no Chinese. The TV was in Chinese. My doctors spoke broken English. The process for healing there was a nightmare. I was culturally unrecognized--or rather misrecognized. The mind is the component for speech, understanding, and communication. My mind was in a place of brokenness. The doctors had a limited view of who I was.

The doctors there tended to be "heavy-handed" with the medications. One time, after I was released, I was so overdosed I could not swallow and it felt like knives were tearing up every muscle in my body. My pain was outrageous.

I was released while I was still very psychotic. I was subdued by the medications, though. I spent another month in Hong Kong before I returned to the United States. I was like a wounded animal trying to survive. My cognitive abilities were, again, disrupted. The emotional and mental traumas I suffered were deep.

My medications were changed upon arrival. My Lithium had been changed to Valproic Acid (Depakote) while I was in the hospital. It took months to stabilize. My thoughts remained in the manic to hypomanic state during that time.

I began seeing a therapist. I began to understand for the first time that my illness was all encompassing. My illness was a physical illness that effected my brain. My brain is the control center for my entire life...my body, my mind (including my intelligence, my cognitive functions, my creativity, my emotions, etc.), my personality, and my spirit.

I began to understand the nature of the illness...that it is cyclical and that it has two basic faces with many inbetween states: manic and depressed.

I was on Depakote for a year. During that time, I had many little rotations of the illness. My illness was managed to some degree. It wasn't blowing up to its most extreme states. But the cycle was still very obvious. My mood swings were rapid. My doctor at that time suggested that I not use antipressants because they would most likely cause rapid cycling. That is to say that the cycle would be artifically spiked. I would hit a high that would not level off and then meds would be needed to pull me down from the "glass ceiling". Those drugs would cause me to drop into a depressed state and the cycle would start, again and again.

Balancing Act

Life became an impossible balancing act for me. The medication they were using was wrong for my physical makeup. I moved to a relative's during this cycle of quick rotations. I had been living with Mom in my old town of long ago. My life just got to be so difficult to cope with. I had nothing familiar and safe---except Mom (but she has never accepted my diagnosis and so that is not a support). I found a job. It turned out to be extremely high stress. Low and behold...I almost ended up spiking to full-blown psychosis. I caught it and stopped it with the antipsychotic, Zyprexa. I quit my job, though, after suffering terrible emotional distress. I had never quit a job without having another one. My health came first. I asked my doctor to change my base med back to Lithium. The process was agonizing. I had to take both Depakote and Lithium for awhile. My arms shook like I had Parkinson's Disease. It was frustrating, embarassing and uncomfortable.

I stabilized.

Unfortunately, I got another retail position. I was unhappy at my place in life which caused me so much stress. The job was hard on me physically. The hours damaged me. My sleep patterns were wacky. It was hard to stay on a healthy regime. I fought off a number of episodes.

My weight began ballooning up, again. I had lost weight rapidly while I was in Hong Kong. As it turns out, my thyroid had been destroyed by the Lithium. I had to start taking a synthroid called, Levoxyl. I lost 60 lbs. after that.

Part III
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