Master of Routine

clocks-1098080_1920My illness has totally turned me into a creature of habit.  Studies have shown that routines can ease Bipolar and I have found that to be true as well.  I typically eat at the same time every day (5 times a day) which helps keep my blood sugar stable and in turn regulates my moods and energy.  I try my best to go to sleep every night and wake every morning at the same time also.  I’ve found planning my meals and snacks and having good sleep hygiene to be keys to managing my illness.  If you aren’t on a good eating and sleeping routine, I suggest you work on that first and foremost.  I also try to plan my work days by scheduling tasks on my calendar.  I get what’s most important done first thing in the morning before my territory gets going and I also schedule weekly and monthly responsibilities to make sure I stay on track.

My mind likes life to be predictable and I always feel the need to be in control so when change happens it often leaves my head spinning.   For instance, I recently had two full days of meetings at work and team activities after work.  It completely threw me for a loop and gave me some pretty intense anxiety.  I had to be at work an hour and a half earlier than normal which I found to be stressful.  That is a big change for someone who is on a strict schedule.  I had to take medicine to put myself to sleep earlier to ensure I got enough rest.  This would be probably be no big deal for a lot of people, but I was experiencing a bout of Irritable Bowel Syndrome also during this time so the thought of not having control over when and what I ate as well as being stuck in a room for hours on end really freaked me out.  So I decided to take some of my control back by bringing my own food for breakfast and lunch.  I left the room during lunch to eat my own food in peace and be close to a bathroom in case my stomach acted up.  This helped ease my anxious mind.

I find traveling work to be challenging as well, but I am getting better at managing it.  The first time I travelled for work, I had my first and only panic attack.  I was not medicated at the time and not doing so well mentally when I was asked to drive to Illinois and Wisconsin with a co-worker.  The first day we spent at a job site watching an installation of one of our stormwater quality units followed by lunch with a sales person then a visit to one of our supplier’s warehouses.  Something I ate during lunch upset my stomach and when we got the supplier I found myself getting sick in the bathroom while everyone was waiting on me to go on a plant tour.  I tried to pull myself together and go on the tour, but i became worried about having an accident as I wandered around the huge warehouse not knowing where the closest bathroom was.  My heart started pounding and I found it difficult to breathe and I high tailed it to the car where I sat for the rest of the visit.  I was completely panicked and mortified.

That first work trip made me terrified to travel for work again and I did everything I could to avoid it.  It almost became a phobia of sorts.  So when my boss called me into his office a little over three years ago and told me I was getting promoted and I had to fly to Oregon and present in front of over 100 of my co-workers, I freaking flipped.  I have little experience presenting and public speaking is my number one fear.  That combined with my fear of traveling for work threw me into a Bipolar episode that lasted for months.  I ended up traveling to the meetings, but I made sure my flight times fit into my normal daily schedule and I did not present.  I did it on my terms and I survived.  Each time I have travelled since, it has gotten a little easier and my last work trip was even my idea.  I refuse to take super early flights so my sleep routine is not disturbed and I also book the shortest travel time (even if that means flying into LAX or traveling on a weekend, ugh).  I bring snacks with me so my blood sugar doesn’t get too low and I try to set my own schedule, always.

This might sound like a boring way to live, but my routines help keep me stable.  The consistency they provide in my life make them worthwhile to me.  If you are struggling to stabilize your moods, I highly suggest you try to your best to stick to a schedule.  It could be exactly what you are missing.

The Dreaded “T” Word

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I recently broke up with my therapist of 3 1/2 years.  Well she doesn’t know it yet, but I’m not going back.  For one thing, her office is now way out of the way since we moved.  For another, I feel like it has been a waste of my time for over two years.  We basically just chat about a few things that are going on in my life and I often run out of things to say and constantly glance at the clock.  I’ve been seeing her every 3-4 weeks just to check in and make sure I’m ok.  Sometimes I’m not the best judge of how I’m doing and I’m really good at faking it and covering up ally shit.  I also tend to be fairly quiet so Chad isn’t always clued in either. I’ve been pretty stable since the spring of 2015 and I am tired of throwing twenty-five dollars away each month so I’ve decided to cut the cord.  I need to give her a call and explain.  I’m sure she will understand.

I first started seeing a therapist in 2005 when I was 27.  She was a hippie that didn’t believe in medication unless it was absolutely necessary.  She believed I learned to be depressed by seeing others in my family depressed, said I was an alcoholic and love addict, recommended self-help books along with some crazy bovine liver supplements from her chiropractor and told me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings for support.  I was nearly suicidal at the time, thinking of garages I could park my car in and end the pain easily.  She dragged up the past during every visit and I left feeling worse than when we started.  I basically cried the entire visit.  She had me doing mirror work and affirmations to improve my self-esteem.  I repeated “I am enough” while staring at myself in the mirror.  None of these approaches worked for me.  If she were a responsible therapist she would have recommended I see a psychiatrist first.  As I look back now, I can see it was very dangerous not to do so.

I saw another therapist in my late twenties for a few visits that thought I had Bipolar Disorder and wanted to me to see a psychiatrist so I could get on a mood stabilizer, specifically Depakote.  I can’t remember what happened there, but I don’t think I liked what she had to say and the psychiatrist she wanted me to see was not taking new patients so I missed my opportunity to get my diagnosis earlier.  In my early thirties I saw another one for a few months.  Again, the visits made me feel worse than I normally did and I didn’t get anything out of it.  After the psychotic episode in 2010, I saw a therapist that my nurse practitioner referred me to.  She was really aggressive and I was so doped up on an antipsychotic the first visit that she couldn’t get anywhere with me because I could hardly answer her questions.  I just kept saying I don’t know.  I went back a couple more times and she was really pushing me to work on myself, but I was still recovering from psychosis and not thinking clearly so we didn’t accomplish much.

I decided when I started seeing my most recent therapist that we would not discuss the past and I would not let her try to figure out why I am the way I am.  I was upfront about that on my first visit.  I wanted to focus on the present.  I wanted her to help me determine if my mind was healthy, a monthly check-in to make sure I was on the right track.  We both followed that protocol and I found that it was a much better way for me personally.  What a freaking relief.  I believe I am the way I am because I have a chemical imbalance.  I inherited it from my family (I have it on both sides).  Digging around in my past trying to find some reason for it is absurd to me.  I have no history of trauma or abuse.  I was raised by parents who love me and would do anything for me.  We had our issues like all families do, but my environment did not trigger this illness.  So please for the love of God, don’t try to psychoanalyze me.  So I’m closing the book on therapy for now and if things work out they way I have planned, I will not be opening it anytime soon.

The Big 4-0

IMG_12672018 has been a little bit of a rollercoaster so far.  I started it off sick with a sinus infection which was annoying.  I felt pretty rotten, but Chad would not let me cancel the little 40th birthday party he had planned.  He is so freaking stubborn.  I returned to work after 12 days off and it was quiet for a change.  I was busy, but it wasn’t crazy hectic like it normally is.  We had some bitterly cold days that had me wanting to stay in bed the whole day, but I didn’t.  I never do. No matter how I am feeling, I get up and “get my day going” as Chad likes to say.  For one thing Chad WILL NOT let me stay in bed.  No way.  Really though, even when I’ve been incredibly depressed, I have always pushed through.  I always got up.  I always went to work.  I have a strong will, sometimes too strong.  I have pushed through and continued on with things when I should have been taking care of myself.  That’s what caused me to go into psychosis at work 8 years ago. I am getting much better at it, but I still rarely take a sick day.  If I stay home sick, I still work basically all day.  Anyway…I’ve been having a midlife crisis of sorts.  Turning 40 triggered something in me.  It has me reevaluating everything in my life.  I mean EVERYTHING.  It also triggered a mini Bipolar episode.  I say mini because I caught it before it got out of control.

Turning 40 without children has been fucking hard.  I am not going to lie.  This is not the life I pictured for myself when I was younger.  I am really good a faking it, having this facade that life is good and fun all the time and I’ve got my shit together, but that number started to make my head spin.  I started putting all this pressure on myself.  OK, this is it.  This is your last year to try to have a baby.  You’ve gotta figure this out right now!      Then the fear kicked in.  You can’t give birth to a healthy child with this illness.  You can’t raise a child and work full time with this illness.  How can you take care of another human when there are times when you can barely take care of yourself?  I’ve been conflicted about starting a family for years.  I have a lot of fears.  That’s probably part of the reason why I haven’t been able to conceive even with the assistance of fertility treatments.  I haven’t had the right energy around having a baby.  I’m fully aware of that.

So…along with this pressure and fear came some depression.  I started to feel very apathetic which is not like me at all.  I usually care too much.  I started to lose hope and I started to feel trapped.  I began to want to isolate.  I felt like I was alone in the world.  I started to focus on all the things that make me feel separate from the rest of the world.  I no longer drink alcohol (I’ve given it up for good this time, 6 weeks alcohol free!) and sometimes that makes me feel like an alien at social events.  That and not having children to talk about with other women my age frequently makes me feel like I’m from another planet in social situations.  I live in a small suburban town in Ohio.  Literally everyone around me has kids and drinks on the weekends (at least).  The depression lasted about a week then the mania kicked in.  I was rapid cycling (going from depression to mania quickly).  The mania showed up as wanting to spend money on shit I didn’t need, obsessively cleaning out my closet and wanting to get rid of half my clothes, having zero appetite, and insomnia.  I barely sat down or ate anything last Sunday. When I had trouble sleeping that night and felt like my head was in the clouds on Monday, I knew I had to do something.

I called my psychiatrist and had him increase my antipsychotic to stabilize my mood.  The higher dose put the smack down on the mania instantly.  Praise Jesus for atypical antipsychotics!  It could have been a lot worse if I let it continue and didn’t call my doctor.  While we are on the topics of meds, I want to clear something up.  Sometimes people are surprised when I tell them I take medication because I am so focused on having a clean lifestyle.  I have been on medication consistently for the last 5 years.  It has greatly improved my quality of life.  I’ve tried in the past to go without meds and it has not worked for me.  I went to the Cleveland Clinic and saw a Functional Medicine doctor for the sole purpose of stopping meds.  Functional Medicine looks that the root cause of illness.  I had a shit ton of tests done to see if there was some underlying problem causing my illness, they found nothing and the doctor advised me to stay on a mood stabilizer for the rest of my life.  She told me even if I ate perfect organic paleo meals, I would still need to be on meds.  Now don’t get me wrong, cleaning up your diet and lifestyle helps a ton, but it may not always keep you sane.  That is not a risk I am willing to take right now. Due to my history of psychosis, I have chosen to stay on meds.

So…I am just taking it day by day now.  I’m doing much better than I was a week ago and I am grateful for that. I am blessed to have family and friends that support me and a doctor who actually listens and cares.  I thank God that we have excellent health insurance and can afford everything I need to take care of myself.  I have so much to be thankful for.  I realize that I have it easy compared to others that struggle with mental health issues.  My prayer is that one day everyone will have access to to the medical care they need.  I also pray that my words help people feel less alone and give them courage to speak up about mental illness instead of being ashamed.  That is what it is all about friends.

Bipolar and Infertility: Haven’t I been given enough already?

shutterstock_427218448During the first five years of marriage, starting a family was kind of off the table.  I was struggling so terribly with depression and anxiety that I couldn’t handle even the thought of trying to take care of a child.  I could hardly take care of myself at times.  The fatigue was so bad that it took everything I had to get out of bed and finish a day of work.  I was so exhausted by the time I got home that often I could not prepare dinner and do the dishes.  I was having serious trouble sleeping and just functioning on a daily basis.  When I thought about trying to get pregnant, I had so many fears.  How would I be able to function if I was getting up with a baby at night?  Not to mention my anxiety about trying to stop meds to have a healthy baby in the first place.  And what about postpartum depression?  Having bipolar puts me in a higher risk category.  What if I had another serious episode and had to be hospitalized?  What if I became psychotic while I was alone with the baby?  It all just seemed too risky for me.

 

I’ve wanted to have a family for as long as I can remember.  If you would have asked me what I wanted to be when I was younger, I would have told you I wanted to be a mother.  I had no interest in a career.  I just wanted to stay home and raise babies.  My mother worked as a preschool teacher at daycare centers and later ran a center out of our home.  I loved being around kids.  I would often visit her at the daycare after school and I would go straight to the baby room to fawn over them.  When I got older I became very close with my nephew.  I spent as much time as I could with him in my twenties.  He would spend weekends at my apartment.  I took him on trips to see my mom and stepdad in Florida.  I took him to Disney World.  I took him everywhere with me.  He was the most important person in my life.  He did not have a relationship with my brother and something in me told me I needed to be there for him no matter what.  I made sure he knew his other side of the family.  I spoiled him with affection, toys, clothes, anything he wanted.  I mothered him in a way.  When his parents decided he should move to Maryland with my brother, I cried my eyes out.  He brought so much joy to my life during some of my most darkest days.

 

In 2012, Chad and I decided I would stop meds to try to have a baby.  I tapered off for a couple weeks, one day on and one day off, which was sometimes excruciating.  I had terrible withdrawals from the antipsychotic.  On the nights I didn’t take it, I would barely sleep, waking up every hour with anxiety.  I had horrible dreams and night sweats.  It was rough.  Eventually it got easier and I functioned pretty well for five months before relapsing with a fairly intense episode of anxiety.  I promptly went back on meds and felt defeated.  That’s when my friend found a naturopath in the area that treated mental illness with high doses of vitamins.  I started the therapy and eight months later I tried stopping meds again.  This time I started with the antidepressant since I had such a terrible time with the antipsychotic.  Three months later I was struggling with depression and anxiety.  I was having trouble working so I went back on.  The vitamin regimen was tough.  I took up to 65 pills a day.  I had to take them at specific times so I always had a bag of pills with me and set alarms on my phone.  Sometimes I had to take powders mixed with juice and one in particular made me vomit as soon as I took it so I had to take like 15 pills instead.  For the entire 15 months I was on them, I had to avoid processed carbohydrates or I would have terrible diarrhea. Often I would have intestinal upset even if I didn’t have the processed carbs.  I was fed up so I stop seeing that doctor and resigned to my regular medication.  

 

A couple months later Chad and I saw a perinatal specialist to see if it would be safe for me to stay on meds during pregnancy.  She went over the risks and decided since I had a history of psychosis that the benefits outweighed the risks. I still had concerns because both meds I was on are pregnancy category C which means they don’t really know because there is not enough research since scientists can’t ethically perform drug testing on pregnant women.  I struggled a lot with the decision, but Chad wanted to go for it and after a lot of thought and prayers I decided that I couldn’t keep living in fear.  I decided that I only have one life and I didn’t want to regret not trying.  We started trying right away.  After a year I saw my gynecologist to see if anything was wrong.  I went through the tests he recommended.  They checked Chad and he was better than normal (super sperm).  The hysterosalpingogram checked to see if my tubes were open and they were.  The post coital test checked how the sperm interacted with me and it was normal.  I also had surgery to check for endometriosis.  The doctor said I was as pretty on the inside as I was on the outside which made me smile (my doc is the sweetest).  We kept trying for a while since they didn’t find anything wrong, but then took a break for six months because I had another bipolar episode which was heartbreaking.

 

In January of 2017, we decided to see a fertility specialist.  They did blood work and checked my tubes again.  Everything came back normal.  We tried a cycle of the fertility drug Clomid and intrauterine insemination, but didn’t get the positive pregnancy test we were expecting.  The doctor said my uterine lining was too thin so we tried another drug called Femara and IUI again.  Again I didn’t get knocked up.  It was beyond frustrating.  I had a cyst the following month so I could not take any fertility meds then we took a vacation and I had to travel for work so we missed three months of treatments.  We then decided to try a bigger practice in Cincinnati that was recommended by a friend.  We chose to try the drug Femara again with injections to improve our chances.  Chad had to give me shots in my stomach seven times and we did IUI again.  I started my period the day before the start of vacation which was hard to take.  Currently I am trying the Whole30 diet (some have had success with it ) for a while before we do another IUI or decide on IVF.  We haven’t made up our minds about IVF because of the cost and the doctors think I might not be getting good quality eggs.  So if the egg isn’t healthy, IVF will not work.  My age doesn’t help things.  They have suggested donor eggs, but that is super expensive and neither of us want to have someone else’s child.  We’ve discussed adoption, but Chad is not too keen on it and I don’t know if they would consider me to be a good parent because of my mental illness.

 

This experience has not been easy.  It keeps me up at night (a lot).  I carry a lot of guilt for not being able to give Chad a child.  I feel like my illness has taken a lot from us, years of our life, the wedding we had planned, and now possibly our chance to have children.  If we would have started earlier, we would have had better chances.  All I can do now is have faith that God has this.  I am not in control.  Maybe he has a different plan.  Maybe I couldn’t handle it with my illness.  Maybe he is protecting me.  He works in mysterious ways and for now I am just trying to stay positive and keep believing in miracles.

 

Book Introduction

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I am about 1/3 of the way done with my first book.  Hoping to complete by December 2017.  Just decided on the title…Bipolar is a Bitch: One chick’s journey from Crazyville to kick ass mental wellness.

I found out about my Bipolar Type II diagnosis from a piece of paper.  I had been off meds for about 5 months when I starting having severe anxiety and difficulty sleeping.  I was only sleeping a couple hours a night and was having extreme highs and lows.  One minute I thought I had the solution to all of my problems and the next I felt like I wanted to die.  I was completely freaked out and tried desperately to get in to see my psychiatrist.  Problem is she has too many patients so she is always overbooked.  It took about a week to get in to see her.  I had written down everything that I had been experiencing for the past week and read it to my doctor.  She told me to take a week off work to let the meds get into my system.  As I was leaving I looked down and saw Bipolar II on my visit report.  It was like someone stabbed a knife in my chest.  What?!?  I have Bipolar?  I immediately got defensive.  I don’t have Bipolar!  That doctor is a quack!  For years I had been trying to find excuses for my mental issues.  When my head started to slow down, the diagnosis began to sink in.  As I looked back at my life, I could see the cycles.  It made sense.  It felt so final.  This is it.  I am stuck with this for the rest of my life.  It made me feel separate, different, and even more alone.

From that day on, I have been on a mission to find ways to manage my illness other than just popping pills and praying they work.  By the time I received the diagnosis, I had tried a litany of medications (I could start a side business with the leftovers).  I was even prescribed GHB for sleep (Yes, the date rape drug.  It didn’t help).  I spent a couple years in psychoanalysis which proved to cause more harm than good.   I’ve experimented with alternative therapies as well.  Cranial sacral therapy, reiki, and yoga. All of which did provide some relief.  I was determined to get off meds at one point to start a family so I donated ten grand to a naturopath that promised to cure my illness with high doses of amino acids.  Instead of relieving my symptoms permanently, it gave me nausea and diarrhea for months while I took up to 65 pills a day.  Ain’t nobody got time for that, especially when the runs hit you in the middle of a work meeting.  Good times.  I’ve tried gluten-free, sugar-free, paleo, and veganism.  Cleanses are not my friends.  I once eliminated all gluten, sugar, dairy, meat, caffeine, and alcohol.  I became so depressed after three weeks that only a cheeseburger and milkshake could ease the pain.  These restrictive diets caused even more symptoms.  I’ve learned that changing my diet so drastically affects my mood and energy in a big, not so great way.

My search for alternative therapies led me to the Institute for Integrative Nutrition.  I took their year long health coach certification training.  The program taught me ways to bring more balance into my life like focusing on what they call primary foods; healthy relationships, physical activity, a fulfilling career, and a spirituality practice.  I learned over 100 dietary theories and studied with the world’s top health and wellness experts.  I gained a wealth of knowledge from this program and it gave me something positive to focus on during a time when I had almost lost hope.  The program helped me discover that listening to my intuition and eating in a more balanced way provides more positive shifts in my health.  It also taught me how to coach others using a holistic approach to health and wellness.

I’ve learned a lot on this journey and my hope for this book is the show others they are not alone and there are better ways to manage symptoms than the standard protocol of most doctors and therapists.  I’ll take you through the ups and downs, the good and the ugly, the road into madness, and the path to recovery.  I spent many years feeling completely alone with my illness and trying desperately to cover it up.  I’ve found that owning it and sharing my story with others gave me my power back and put me back into control of my life.  Shedding light on mental illness, fighting stigma, and showing others how to recover has become my passion and I truly believe it is my purpose in life.  If you are struggling with any mental health condition, I believe you will find my story comforting and helpful in your recovery, and hopefully a little humorous.   

Escapism

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All of us have our ways we try to escape from our problems.  Some do this more often than others, but I feel most people can relate to this in some way.  My escaping techniques or ways I’ve numbed my feelings have included smoking, drinking, eating, spending, love, work, and social media.  For others it is television, role playing games, gambling, or drugs.  No matter what it is, we use it as a way to avoid feeling uncomfortable emotions or disconnect from reality.  It is a way to anesthetize, a distraction, a temporary exit from life’s problems.  When you are trying to escape from depression, things can get out of control.  Addictions and mental illness go hand and hand.

As I child I turned to food for comfort.  Junk food became my friend when I was lonely or sad.  I would overeat when I was alone and bored.  I would plow through a bag of Doritos while I watched tv.  I would eat huge bowls of sugary cereal and boxes of cookies or cupcakes.  When I was dealing with anxiety and not able to sleep as an adult, I would eat loads of cookies or granola bars.  I would make special trips to the convenience store for sweets or a fast food drive-thru and eat secretly in my car.  I would obsess over food.  I would wake up thinking about what my next meal would be.  I was eating my feelings and I still struggle with it somewhat today.  If I try to restrict myself too much, I end up bingeing on unhealthy foods.  At the end of a strict diet last year, I went straight to a fast food restaurant for a hamburger and fries then to the gas station for packaged cupcakes.  I would pay for this junk food with a credit card that my husband didn’t know about because I was ashamed of what I was doing.  I would feel incredibly guilty after a binge and beat myself up over it.  I was a certified health coach who clearly didn’t have my diet under control.  These unhealthy habits increased when I tried to quit one of my other addictions like smoking.  I was trading one for the other.

I started smoking when I was in high school, but I never really considered myself addicted to it.  I didn’t smoke every day.  I mostly did it when I drank alcohol.  That all changed after my first psychotic episode.  I became severely addicted to it.  I smoked up to a pack a day when I was dealing with high stress and anxiety.  My life revolved around it.  All I could think about was my next cigarette.  Chad hates it so I would hide it from him.  I was constantly sneaking around and feeling guilty.  I finally decided to quit this year when I was told it could be affecting my fertility.  It took a couple tries, but I can thankfully now say that I have been off smokes for the last month.  Trying desperately to keep it up while not letting myself eat everything in sight.

In my twenties it was drinking and love.  I was a weekend warrior.  I would binge drink every weekend night.  When I was single, my nights were spent in downtown drinking up to 10 vodka and sodas a night along with a couple shots of liquor.  I would often leave the bar with strangers and stay up all night partying.  Needless to say I put myself in some seriously risky situations.  During one of these drunken nights, I met a man 12 years older than me and began a long, unhealthy relationship.  He caught me as I was ending a serious relationship.  I was super vulnerable and he preyed on my insecurities.  One minute I was the love of his life and the next he would be sleeping with other women.  He was a serial cheater and I was putting myself in some serious danger, but I stayed because my self-esteem was so low that I convinced myself nobody else would love me.  He lied to me about a lot of stuff including his two divorces.  We were together a year before he told me about these marriages.  I finally decided to end it when he told me he would never marry again or have children.  My desire to have children was stronger than my need to be loved by him.  Later I found out some super scary things about him.  I seriously dodged a bullet.

I’ve also had my issues with spending.  When I was manic I would overspend on food, booze, and clothes.  I racked up some debt on credit cards in my twenties that took me about five years to pay off.  I shopped at expensive stores with money I didn’t have.  I would go out to nice dinners with friends and spend some serious cash at the bar.  I would use my credit card or my father’s.  I had no concept of money.  I took vacations I couldn’t afford. If it wasn’t for my dad, I don’t know how I would have put a roof over my head.  I have to watch myself still.  It helps that I have a husband who is a saver.  I still have my moments, but I have come a long way.

So how do you avoid getting caught up in addictions?  I am still trying to figure that all out, but I think the answer lies in facing your problems head on.  I call this Sitting in your Shit.  Sitting in your pain, feeling your emotions no matter how much it hurts.  When you stop escaping, the pain can be intense, but you have to work through it to move on.  I’ve found that meditation, reiki, and exercise can be helpful, also having a good support system.  NAMI support groups were very beneficial to me.  I sometimes would just sit and cry through the entire meeting which helped me release some of my negative emotions. If you are struggling with bipolar and substance abuse, check out this free resource: www.drugrehab.com/co-occurring-disorder/bipolar/ www.advancedrecoverysystems.com/treatment-overview/co-occurring-disorders/.

Spring Mania

My moods tend to align with the seasons these days.  In the spring I get slightly manic.  I am more energetic, have a hard time settling down to go to sleep, and tend to overspend, smoke too much, and overeat.  Unfortunately I don’t typically get the euphoric mania that makes you feel like you are on top of the world.  Mine is more the irritable kind.  I am grouchy and tired, but wired at the same time.  Last year I spent hundreds of dollars on really bright clothes that I will never wear.  If anyone knows me, they know I wear black often and mostly dull colors.  So I will not be caught dead in those loud outfits.  Not to mention they don’t fit because my weight dropped from my head bouncing all over the place.  Hit me up if you’re interested in them.

The following are some tips that I find to be helpful with controlling mania any time of the year.

Limit Caffeine – Drinking a Mountain Dew to stay awake for a college class threw me into a manic episode once.  I know it sounds nuts, but it really happened.  I cut back on caffeine last year.  I stopped drinking 2-4 cups of coffee a day and it really has changed my life.  Caffeine tends to throw me into overdrive then I crash and burn.  My fatigue has improved significantly by just switching to 1-2 cups of green tea with raw honey.

Limit Sugar – I was addicted to dark chocolate covered almonds from Trader Joe’s last year. I started to notice when I ate them at night that my head started to race and I couldn’t sleep.  I also notice this when I eat cake and ice cream at birthday parties.  It just makes me hyper and unwell.

Exercise – It helps to burn off that extra energy and calm your mind.  Try doing some moderate cardio for a 1/2 hour or better yet take a walk in nature.  My head always feels clear after I spend a couple hours walking in the woods.  If only I had the time to do that right now!

Earthing or Grounding – Take advice from my mom and go stand in the grass in your bare feet.  Balance your energy by connecting to the Earth’s electrons.  Research has shown it can improve sleep, lower stress, and reduce inflammation.

Disconnect – Don’t use technology an hour before bedtime.  This includes, smartphones, television, and computers.  Try blue blocker glasses.  I just bought some because I spend a lot of time on the computer and smartphone.  The blue light from these devices suppress melatonin production which affects your sleep.

If all else fails or your mania is severe, call your doctor.  You may need a prescription change.  Ask friends and family members to keep an eye on you because often it is hard for one to tell when they are in a manic episode.  Sometimes it just feels like everything is going right and it is difficult for the person affected to see that it might be problematic.