exercise | A Mind Divided

The Plan

13 Aug 2012 12 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, health, mixed-media art, quality of life, TV and Movies, vegetarianism Tags: management, pain, routine, triggers

Our YWCA is closed this week for its annual scrub and tune-up. This year they’re refinishing all the pools, so we won’t be back in the water until August 20. Since I get a little squirrelly on weekends when I don’t have my water aerobics class, a whole week without water or my other exercise options carries the potential for what my shrink calls “destabilization.” After stumbling though this for a few years, I finally figured out that I need to put an alternate exercise plan in place in order to come out the other side without going completely yampy. Like the Russians in Hunt for Red October, I always need a plan.

ω ω ω

This year my friend, Penny, generously offered me the use of her condo’s pool. I’m also hitting Tom and Cheryl’s stationary bike in the evenings, setting up “walking dates” with other friends, and doing solo walks as long as my feet hold out. I’m much more comfortable in the water than on land—my feet and joints get too sore pounding the pavement, and I have a congenital twist in one leg that generates monster blisters no matter what kind of shoes I wear. But, as long as I can give myself a few days between walks, I’m good.

So much in my life has shifted since last summer’s break from the Y. This year I’m deeply committed to getting the exercise my brain and body have grown used to and need along with continuing my exploration of the vegan way of life. Another year of living medication-free and developing strategies for managing my bipolar disorder roots me in my Bipolar Bad-Ass way of life. As a reminder this week, I added another mantra to my Inspiration Door. The illness rises and falls, but my determination to live well remains constant.

I think even Sean Connery would approve.

A Cautious Step

22 Jul 2012 4 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, mixed-media art, money, music, relationships, writing Tags: attachment, creative process, mixed-state, Observer, pain, rapid cycling

A cautious optimism seems to be creeping up on me. The last couple of days moved through with less frenetic, spastic energy; less explosive mood changes; more moments of quiet joy; more tolerance. It’s too early to tell if this is a shift out of the mixed state rapid cycling I’ve been experiencing, or just another variation of it. When all the bipolar symptoms get thrown in a bag and shaken up, moments of relief are bound to stick together once in a while, too. So, the practice is not to name it, not to grasp it, but simply Observe. And then take appropriate action.

“Appropriate” is a moving target, just like my symptoms. What I’m capable of doing changes with each shift. So, just when I sit down to make cards, I’m suddenly unable to tolerate being in my apartment. Or when the urge to eat bends me over the bakery goods at Panera, I feel the compulsion vanish in an instant. I guess it’s not surprising that I’m experiencing a lot of vertigo. These jumps from one state to another to something combined make me a little loopy. Lots of starting and stopping. Lots of whipping around and muttering, “What?”

Even in this weird, stuttering place a few constants remain. I can always exercise. The pain that comes with the depressive symptoms may make weight-baring exercise more difficult, but there’s always water and my new friend, the recumbent bike. And there’s always writing. No matter how crazy I get, I can always write. It may be crap, but I’ve learned that crappy writing is a gift. It starts the trek to the real story. A crappy first draft or hideous turn of phrase marks where the story isn’t. It’s a pushpin in a map. With enough pushpins, I can see just where the path leads. Even if I’m crazy, I can still read a map.

Exercise and writing give me a little foundation. Whatever else I try to do with my day starts and ends there. So, today I’ll stand on my foundation and cautiously pick up my Bad-Ass Training, knowing I may have to drop it if this moment of relief ends. I’ll check to see where I’m leaking energy or money. I’ll reach out to my support network. I’ll take care of chores that have been abandoned. I’ll shroud my TV. I’ll do what I can in each moment to get ready for that moment to shift.

And while I’m getting ready, I’ll listen to my music. Because that makes everything easier—like Eurythmics’ Miracle of Love.

13 Miracle Of Love

Holiday Survival Tactics

05 Jul 2012 18 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, cats, exercise, holidays, mixed-media art, relationships, TV and Movies Tags: agitation, anxiety, coffee shops, distorted thinking, distraction, management, triggers

I don’t like holidays.

I would rather scratch them all from my calendar. I understand that the weary working need and savor this break, but they only make me sick. The YMCA closes, my coffee shops close, the folks I interact with on a daily basis trot off to be with their families or throw parties—all of which blasts apart my routine. Without my routine, I am a Bipolar Time Bomb with a very short fuse.

Since I was already in a heightened state of stress going into the holiday, I knew I needed some serious backup planning to keep from wigging out completely. I planned to walk the neighborhood to make up for my missed aquatics classes. Yesterday’s temperature was supposed to top out over 100 degrees, so I took my walk at 4:00 AM. I was awake anyway with a yammering cross-fire of spiky thoughts (courtesy of the Bipolar Agitation Fairy), so why not use the time, right?

I decided to allow myself some TV, but the only thing on was Magic City, a Starz series about hotels and the mob in 1959—sort of like Mad Men with dead bodies. I got hooked immediately and had to watch six episodes in a row until I couldn’t take any more depravity or naked women. More yammering, only now it’s images of icky, greasy mobsters doing icky things. Ick.

The urge to bolt seized me, and all I could think of was to go to a movie. That I’d already seen. Which was fine. Air conditioning and popcorn with a little distraction from the yammerers. But after the movie I was right back where I started. I made birthday cards for a while, cooked some supper, worked three crossword puzzles. I tried to soothe my traumatized cats when the fireworks started up, but they would have none of that. They planted themselves under my bed and stayed there.

When I finally crawled into bed myself, all I sent up a little prayer of thanks. I made it through another holiday. Sort of.

Moving On

16 Jun 2012 8 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, exercise, mixed-media art Tags: electroconvulsive therapy, memory loss

After pulling out my Tai Chi DVD and working through the postures for several days, I’ve decided to move on. Problem is, I don’t remember the instruction that went with the movements. Thanks to ECT, that part of my memory is gone. What I do remember about my Tai Chi class was that there was a lot to remember when doing the postures—stance, flow, follow-through, breathing, visualization. And that’s just the stuff I remember about the stuff I’ve forgotten.

The demonstrator on the DVD (the director of the school I attended) moves through the postures quickly and turns her back to the camera for a long stretch. So, not only can I not remember what to do, I can’t even see what to do.

I gave it a shot. I think I’ll do Zumba instead.

Whittling

14 Jun 2012 8 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, friends, health, quality of life, TV and Movies, writing Tags: agitation, awareness, change, compulsive eating, distorted thinking, dreaming, obsessive/compulsive behavior, patterns, resistance

There are days when it seems that everything I do is aimed at shoring up my defenses. I exercise to regulate my brain chemistry and strengthen my body. I journal to catch any distorted thinking and plan my day to avoid impulse eating/spending/reacting. I work on a short story or a longer fictional piece to bleed out the fantasy thinking that collects like rain water in my barrel. I practice Tai Chi as an exercise in Will, proving to myself that I can do things that are uncomfortable or difficult.

An underlying tension runs through all this doing, a sense of glancing over my shoulder toward the horizon. Something’s coming. Then, I shake it off and get back to it.

I’m sure much of this anticipatory dread comes from making so many changes in my lifestyle. Change shakes everything up—physically, mentally, emotionally. There’s no part of us that really likes it. And those parts will fight to return to the status quo. Dr. Phil calls this instinctual drift—the tendency for all organisms to revert back to their natural or learned tendencies. It’s why all those “tame” wild animals keep mauling their owners. It’s why lost weight always finds its way back. Deeply ingrained patterns are just that—carved deep—and it will take more than a couple of weeks of tap dancing around them to make a difference.

The patterns that grew up around being bipolar kept me alive. Maladaptive and unhealthy though they were, they became the only way to survive in my world. Some days it feels like I’m jumping out of my lifeboat into shark infested water. Ooo, and I hate sharks.

But, I have a precedent. I have made a huge change before and incorporated it into my life. I went from never exercising to working out at the Y five days a week. Every week. There’s no resistance to it any more. It is simply part of my life. So, I know change is possible for me. It takes vigilance. It takes making the choice every day, several times a day. It takes carving out a new pattern one splinter at a time until that is the new learned response.

Every evening that I swim with my friend in her pool instead of watch TV is a splinter. Every time I notice my thoughts turning to food and close the book I’m reading is a splinter. Every time I walk uptown instead of getting into my truck is a splinter. They all feel unnatural and forced. My body twitches and there are parts of me that feel like I’m dying. Sharks!

Sometimes I jump back in the boat, return to the comforting and numbing old ways. But, the sharks are just a dream. There is no water. So I climb out of the rotten boat and start again.

I am shoring up my defenses—against my old patterns, coping skills that don’t serve me anymore. What’s coming over the horizon is just a scared little girl flailing against pain and darkness.

Come here, darling. Let’s whittle together.

30 Days of Sketches—Day 20

04 Jun 2012 13 Comments

by Sandy Sue in art, Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, developing consciousness, exercise, TV and Movies, weight loss Tags: blogging challenges, compulsive eating, drawing, meditation, obsessive/compulsive behavior

The Huntsman

Well, I didn’t make 30 sketches by June 1, which was Carla Renee’s original challenge. But, that’s fine with me. The challenge for myself was to actually pick up a pencil and make a mark on paper, to keep doing it until my anxiety over drawing faded. So in that respect, I succeeded magnificently! I’ll continue to post my scribblings until I reach my quota, it just might take awhile.

A Quick Bad-Ass Check In

Here’s how my Master Plan is panning out so far:

No TV √

Exercise after Supper √

Meditation before bedtime √

I discovered that doing absolutely nothing while I eat makes me feel awfully lonely. So, I’m reading a funny Terry Pratchett book, The Wee Free Men, during my meals, then putting the book away as soon as I finish. I’m also only eating at my table, not my comfy TV Chair (or bed, or standing in the kitchen, or in the car). So far, I’ve been able to read and eat my meals without the compulsion to keep on eating. HooHoo!

I haven’t started practicing Tai Chi yet. I seem to keep finding all kinds of fascinating stuff to do in the evenings—and then go to bed early. I’m not ready to take it off my Plan yet, though. I want to keep working with my resistance and see if I can get myself past it. We’ll see.

It’s amazing how fast I forget to put my fork down between bites. Yowza! Since eating is my psyche’s cue to snooze, I’m constantly jerking my head up, metaphorically speaking. So, this technique continues to challenge me.

I found an old pillowcase in my closet and turned it into a TV cover. As with the picture of Bad-Ass Bruce Willis on the back of my front door cheering me on, this old Sandra Boynton cartoon keeps me inspired.

Back in Tune

27 May 2012 12 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, friends, mixed-media art, music Tags: depression, distorted thinking, distraction, gratitude, obsessive/compulsive behavior, pain, poverty, self-worth, TOPS

As the depression gradually lifted yesterday, different parts of me started to come back online. I made some cards for my sister that only the day before seemed like an impossible task. I walked the seven blocks to the post office, mailed some bills, walked to my coffee shop, journaled and walked home. Moving again felt like heaven after avoiding the Y on Friday and skipping TOPS on Thursday. Moving with pain, still, but moving nonetheless.

I tidied up the apartment, did laundry at my mom’s house, and considered how I would manage this last week in May with little in my cupboards and $20 in my billfold. After two long depressive episodes this month, the financial well is pretty dry after bolting in my truck when I didn’t really have money for gas and all the take-out I brought in because I couldn’t force myself to cook. Then, there were all the movies I went to in order to distract my twisted brain from thoughts of self-harm. Even with help from my family for medical bills and an overhaul on the truck, I’m at less-than-zero.

There’s no despair in that. I know I’ll be fine. It’s just the way this illness works in me. It doesn’t matter how intelligent I am, or how many coping skills I accumulate. I train and prepare the best I can, tuning my instrument for the Dark Concert to come. But, when it hits, I can only play for so long before going flat. Strings break. The lip gets tired. Notes run together. Then, I just hang on and wait for the coda.

As always, it’s in the silence once the music stops where I can effect change. I adjust. I fire up any other parts of me that have shut down and put them back in service. I start practicing for the next Performance.

Last night I got to practice with a friend I haven’t seen in over 30 years. When Therese walked through the door at Perkins, I felt like me, not the slow, despairing creature I had been for the last week. I felt my heart expand from a brittle nub of contraction. I felt music moving through my veins.

Lenihan, Julie Greiner, Therese Sizer, Sherm Botts

Band Divas—Sandy, friend Julie, Therese and Therese’s dad, who was our band director in 1973

Therese and I met at swimming lessons the summer before we started junior high. She was a part of every happy thing I did in school—band, speech club, foreign language club, and all those slumber parties. We were part of the same gang—smart, talented, teen-aged girls trying to figure out who we were. She’s still smart and talented, an accomplished woman moving confidently through the world—just like we hoped we’d be back in junior high.

Catching up on each other’s lives, talking politics, laughing, we both remarked on how much we were the same as those young girls. The essence doesn’t change. The song of our soul seeps to the surface, no matter what tries to silence it.

I’m grateful for the chance to practice with Therese last night. Like a tuning fork, she helped me find my pitch. It’s always there, but gets lost sometimes in the cacophony of my depression. Thank you, my friend.

Henry Says. . .

26 May 2012 13 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, cats, exercise, teachers Tags: depression, management

“Get up off your ass and get to the Y.”

The Bad-Ass is Back

10 May 2012 11 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, family, money Tags: compulsive eating, good days, grace, therapy, TOPS

After almost three weeks en-episode, the Dark Visitor who took up residence in my head drifted on to other haunts today. It felt exactly like a someone opened a window in my brain and aired the place out. Colors brighten. Sounds sweeten. The body breathes a sigh of relief.

My first hint came while ripping through the deep water this morning. There’s nothing like karate kicks and ab crunches to bring the Bad-Ass grin to a girl’s face. I may take up double space on land, but in the water I’m a svelte powerhouse with Zen control.

At our TOPS meeting, I was shocked to find I’d lost weight this week. After three weeks of relentless compulsive eating, I expected another week of gains. I chalk up the loss to Grace and a balancing of the gain I had last week. A person can’t take the numbers on the scale too literally—the body is always in flux. But, I was reminded of why I joined TOPS last December. I wanted a place to rest and receive support during episodes when I couldn’t control what I put in my mouth.

And when those episodes ended, I wanted folks who would help me jump right back on the horse. My group does just that. They’re the best wranglers in town.

Later, I drove to my mental health clinic to chat with my therapist and pick up my medical records. The HIPAA regulations seem simple enough—any patient has the right to request a copy of their medical records. A fee may be levied. Unfortunately, therapy notes aren’t covered by the HIPAA guidelines. And third-party records (another provider’s information that may also be in the chart) cannot be copied.

Luckily, my current shrink and the therapists who have taken care of me over the past six years decided I could handle reading my therapy notes. So, I received copies of those.

And Michelle, my current therapist and head cheerleader, sat with me and figured out how I could contact all the hospitals, clinics, and former docs who hold the rest of my mental health history. I left the clinic feeling clear and sharp. I had a plan. I always do better with a plan.

Bipolar episodes are never easy, but this last one seemed particularly grim. I’m getting used to them lasting longer. I’m getting more skillful at separating myself from the grue in my head. But there’s always a point in the battle when things can’t seem to get any worse—and then, they do. This time is was the maintenance on my dad’s truck that totaled over $900.

But, my sister and brother jumped in with their swords drawn and slayed that beast for me. Thank the gods for the folks who’ve got my back! I’d forgotten basic Action/Adventure plot structure or I would have seen them coming. The Crew always pops out of nowhere in the nick of time to keep the warrior from getting hacked to pieces. My Sibling Cavalry.

So, with a deadly roundhouse kick, a spirited steed, a savvy crew and a plan of attack, the Bad-Ass is definitely back.

A Bad-Ass Review

23 Apr 2012 9 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, exercise, health, quality of life, writing Tags: awareness, compulsive eating, diet, distraction, fatigue, pain, resistance, routine, surgery, TOPS, Unitarian Universalists, volunteering, Will

A page has turned.

Or, maybe, a season is done.

Whatever the metaphor, I’ve put closure to a few major events in my life—healing from surgery, Callinda, and celebrating Callinda. Now it’s time to regroup, refocus and point myself in the next direction.

To do that, I turn to my Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, which seems odd since I’m not coming out of a bipolar episode. But, the last six weeks threw my normal routine out the window, and Bad-Assery is all about putting routine back in place and setting focus.

Clean Eating

I was thrilled that I got all the party left-overs out of my apartment before I indulged in more than one binge. Saturday night, I was exhausted after cleaning and schlepping. All I wanted to do was self-medicate with food and go numb in front of the TV, which I did. But, the next morning I gave away the rest of the left-overs or threw them in the dumpster. Better in there than in me.

Getting too tired, too emotional, or too rigid are guaranteed triggers of my compulsive eating. I’m pleased that I minimized the damage and am back to Paying Attention in this area.

Stamina and Strength

I’ve returned to my 6:00 AM water aerobics class. I can still feel some soreness, and I’m not as fast or strong as when I left six weeks ago, but I’m back. I know that a huge part of my quick recovery is due to my level of fitness going into surgery. That feels wonderful. Me? Fit? Who woulda thunk it?

The next physical issue to address will be my shoulder, reinjured when I swam laps in December. My chiropractor suggested I get an MRI to check for structural damage, so I have an appointment to see my medical doc in a few weeks.

Set Priorities

My basic priorities remain the same—Write, Make Art and Make a Life. Today I started working on what I’m calling my Bad-Assery manuscript—my experience as a bipolar warrior. Lots of work to be done, lots of research to explore, but today I started.

For the next month or so, I’ll be devoting my art time to drawing. I can feel a big boulder of resistance in my gut over this, but just like I pushed through my fear of writing, I can push through my fear of drawing. Each time I pick up my pencil, I will feel the resistance and push back, just a little bit. Holding this tension will strengthen my Will and give me more energy to push back the next time. Growing my Will is important. It will help me to push back against my compulsive impulses when they rise. Anyway I can do that deserves time and attention.

For me, making a life means finding ways to be in the community. Tutoring kids was too stressful and helping at the Animal Rescue League was too sad. So, I stopped at the library today to see if they could use a volunteer. I’ll talk to the person in charge about details tomorrow. There’s also my involvement in TOPS and the Unitarian Universalist group. A Life is definitely being made.

Lay in Supplies

There are chores and maintenance items to attend to, things I let go because I either wasn’t strong enough after surgery, didn’t have the time while planning for the party, or didn’t have the money. It’s time to take care of those things.

Refocus. Regroup. Take stock. And take the next step.

I’m ready.

A Mind Divided

The Plan

A Cautious Step

Holiday Survival Tactics

Moving On

Whittling