TOPS | A Mind Divided

Before and After

28 Sep 2012 8 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, mental health, mixed-media art Tags: depression, Etsy, fatigue, TOPS, transition

Sweet Relief.

I hit bottom yesterday, actually felt the jolt as my body slapped the Pit and bounced. That little bit of momentum, the ricochet off Hell’s linoleum floor, felt like a heavenly watershed.

Before: I shambled, zombie-like, unable to rub two thoughts together without pain, unable to follow a conversation, unable to even hold my head up from the table at my TOPS meeting (The last time I remember laying my head on a table was in Miss Camp’s fourth grade class when we were required to “rest” after lunch). I drowsy-drove to Mom’s with my laundry, but couldn’t figure out how to use the washer. I rested in the basement until my brain could decipher the word “detergent.” Then I slept on Mom’s bed until my sister came out and spoke in a foreign language I almost understood.

After: I actually opened a can of Manwich and microwaved it as spaghetti sauce. I operated my mom’s DVD player and plugged in “Australia.” I answered her in complete sentences when she asked me questions. And as I drove home with my clean and folded clothes, I was awake. Maybe not alert yet, but definitely headed in that direction.

After a weird night of what I call Transition Sleep, I feel almost myself. The momentum is continuing. I missed my normal Y class by oversleeping, but I’ll hit another one in a minute here. I’ve got a plan and a direction for today, which is more than I’ve had in weeks (including the frantic scramble to set up my Etsy site and donation button). Things are looking up, which is the only view from the bottom.

Anger and Compulsive Eating

17 Aug 2012 15 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, developing consciousness, mixed-media art, spiritual practice Tags: anger, awareness, compulsive eating, Observer, Thich Nhat Hanh, TOPS

Part of the pledge we say every week in TOPS is “I am an intelligent person. I will control my emotions and not let my emotions control me.” Emotional eating, compulsive eating, is an enormous problem for most people in our group. It is an issue we all struggle with and support one another to address. But, as someone with bipolar disorder, I knew I would be lying if I said the pledge as written. My moods are uncontrollable. Emotions often erupt out of thin air. I edited my version of the pledge to say “I will observe my emotions and not let my thoughts control me.” I felt this put the TOPS pledge in alignment with my practice. If I could observe my thoughts and emotions, I could discern which pieces might be out of my control and which ones I might be able to work with.

I received an opportunity to Observe this week. For the past few days, I have been enraged, and I watched myself eat everything in sight. This sounds like I was conscious. I was not. I was given moments, flashes, where awareness occurred in spite of the boiling rage. These were gifts borne of Practice. In those moments, I could see I was suffering and making the suffering worse. I tried to hold my anger gently. Then, the anger would wash over me, and I would go back to sleep.

Anger is part of my illness. It is also part of being Human. Rage does not make me a monster or a lunatic, but it pulls me from the path I want to travel. This morning I knew I must find a different way to work with this particular manifestation of anger if I was to continue on my chosen path. I needed a practice. Admitting that made me remember a book I’d not touched in a long time, a book by someone I consider my Teacher—Thich Nhat Hanh.

What a shock to open his book and find the first chapter devoted to consumption.

We all need to know how to handle and take care of our anger. To do this, we must pay more attention to the biochemical aspect of anger, because anger has its roots in our body as well as our mind. When we analyze our anger, we can see its physiological elements. We have to look deeply at how we eat, how we drink, how we consume, and how we handle our body in our daily life.

I expected my Teacher to offer me a way to take care of my anger so I could stop compulsively eating. How ironic, how very Buddhist, to discover that Mindful Eating is the way. At least, the first step of the Way. So, today I will start. I will follow the Mindfulness Training on consumption…

…to cultivate good health, both physical and mental, for myself, my family, and my society by practicing mindful eating, drinking, and consuming. I vow to ingest only items that preserve peace, well-being, and joy in my body, in my consciousness, and in the collective body and consciousness of my family and society. I am determined not to use alcohol or any other intoxicant or to ingest food or other items that contain toxins, such as certain TV programs, magazines, books, films, and conversations…

Today I will slow down and try to stay conscious about what I take in, not feeding the anger, not building more energy for my anger to use. I will breathe, and practice, and try to be open to what rises in me. The path is before me. This is the first step.

Excerpts from Anger—Wisdom for Cooling the Flames by Thich Nhat Hahn.

Becoming

30 Jun 2012 14 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, death, mixed-media art, weight loss Tags: change, compulsive eating, distorted thinking, rapid cycling, self-worth, suicide, TOPS, triggers

What a wacky week.

On one hand, the rapid cycling and slow-motion despair dragged me into a “What’s the Use?” thought loop that quickly spiraled into suicidal ideation. On the other hand, I was this month’s Biggest Loser at TOPS with a 9.6 pound weight loss. The fact that I made it out the other side of this bipolar frenzy makes me know, deep in my soul, that I can make it through anything. I told a friend, “If I didn’t kill myself this week, I never will.”

And that feels absolutely true. Not delusional. Not wishful thinking.

I could feel the Bad-Ass coming back yesterday, but I had to keep searching for her. My grip would slip, but if I concentrated, I could find that sense of ferocity, that drive to survive and beat back the darkness. That sure-footedness is a little stronger today.

I know I’m not done with the stress of challenging my compulsive eating and changing the fabric of my life. I know the stress will trigger my illness again. And again. But somehow this battle is bringing me back to myself. I’m finding a partner in me, someone I can finally count on to guard my back instead of sabotaging my efforts. A new level of self-trust is forming, a new confidence. I like this person I’m becoming.

Today I have to agree with Nietzsche—That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

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.

There’s Gotta Be a Pony in Here Somewhere . . .

25 May 2012 13 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, blogging, family, friends, mixed-media art, money, quality of life, spiritual practice, weight loss Tags: awareness, depression, distraction, gratitude, pain, TOPS

What a week.

I’m workin’ it, though—trying to ferret out a few gifts and bright bobbles of gratitude in the crap-storm that has yet to let up. Seems important to mark these to keep some sort of perspective.

I’m grateful that the worst of the pain from physical therapy let up on Wednesday.
I’m grateful that my mind sent me on a little fantasy vacation with Captain America, in a New York city loft that needed its windows reglazed, with Linda Ronstadt’s rendition of “Someone to Watch Over Me” playing in the background.
I’m grateful for my Mom handing me $40 for no reason.
I’m grateful for my friends at TOPS who understood why I just couldn’t step on the scale yesterday.
I’m grateful for the way the Y’s pool buoys me up and makes me feel strong and graceful regardless of the storm.
I’m grateful for the moments when my mind lets go of the internal horrors, for the psycho-spiritual muscle I’ve grown that enables me to wrench my brain away from the monsters for a time. I need those breathers.
I’m grateful for my sister. Even though she has her own crap-storm to deal with right now, she’s always there for me.
I’m grateful to have a vehicle. When the urge to bolt takes over, I can.
I’m grateful for another day. Sometimes I’m not, so being able to find the gift in today is gift enough.
I’m grateful for this platform, for readers who feel like intimate friends and the kindness they practice on me. Meaty, sustaining kindness.

I am grateful.

Yes, I am grateful.

Don’t Touch that Dial!

19 May 2012 12 Comments

by Sandy Sue in Bipolar Bad-Ass Training, bipolar disorder, developing consciousness, mixed-media art, TV and Movies, weight loss Tags: awareness, compulsive eating, distorted thinking, Observer, patterns, TOPS, Will

My initial plan for living without TV was to see how it went for three days (until weigh-in at TOPS). I realized unplugging completely would be another case of Black or White/All or Nothing thinking, a pattern of mine that is usually unrealistic and breaks down fairly quickly.

Balance has always been elusive. Perhaps being a Libra with bipolar disorder tips the scales (so to speak), and I overcompensate to aim for that center line. Or perhaps with so much that is unmanageable in my life, I clutch at ways to take control. Whatever powers may be in play, pathological or cosmic, I’ve learned this about myself and try to loosen my thinking and actions from their rigid, polar leanings.

The statistics for those three days didn’t really surprise me. I took in 1000 calories less each day and ended up losing 4 pounds for the week.

I still went to my friends’ house on Wednesday night for our Criminal Minds date. It was the two-hour season finale, and I watched closely as my desire to eat woke up toward the end of the first hour. My thoughts kept sliding to what I could forage from my friends’ kitchen. As the show continued, I started planning my attack on the Kwik Stop on the way home—Cheetos or Chips? I watched and pushed against the compulsion, fell into the dream of the show, watched the desire rise, pushed against it. This is what Ouspensky calls strengthening the Will as opposed to exercising will power. Tomato, tomah-to…

So, now what? TV is definitely a portal to my compulsive eating. Do I use it as a tool or chain it up and toss it onto oblivion? Can I hold the awareness it would take to work with it? What about when the next bipolar episode arrives and I need a cheap, easy form of distraction?

I journaled about this for several hours and found no easy answers. Of course. If it was easy, someone would have written a book about it by now. I think I’ll leave the TV off for now, not shun it, not cast it into the Fires of Hell. If I need it, it will be there. Along with a little notebook to record my Observations and help me hold awareness. Maybe that will help me push against the compulsion when it rises. Maybe not.

In the meantime, I have a lot of my own Programming to Watch.

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.

Too Much of a Good Thing

05 Apr 2012 15 Comments

by Sandy Sue in bipolar disorder, mixed-media art Tags: awareness, compulsive eating, compulsive spending, distorted thinking, hypomania, journaling, management, mapping, Observer, obsessive/compulsive behavior, symptoms, TOPS

There’s no doubt about it. I am in a manic phase. The flood of ideas and potential projects keep washing over me, each one more brilliant than the last. What I’m trying to do is stay aware and stay focused. I’m journaling to capture the ideas and get them out of my head. When the mania lets go of me, I’ll be able to look at them objectively. Often I find the ideas are still good ones, but not practical or timely or worth pursuing.

For example, yesterday I envisioned a new soft art piece—a Winter Solstice banner using a cloth-charring technique and quilting with used dryer sheets; revisited an idea for a novel about a bipolar woman living with her gay best friend in a conservative small town; and party favors for my Callinda party using cloth, beads, stamps and quotes from the story. Swirled among those ideas are the details of the day today. Get to the Y. Remember to take my food journal to TOPS. Remember to take items for the silent auction at TOPS. Strip the bed to do laundry. All thoughts, all details, carry equal weight and flash in and out of my mind. So writing them down and making lists helps to drain some of the wildness out of them.

I’m also trying to watch what the giddy energy brings up in me. So far, I’m not feeling the compulsions. Yesterday, I went shopping with my friend, Cheryl, and only indulged in a magazine (The Writer, for research purposes, of course) and craft adhesive (which I needed).

I have less of a desire to eat than usual, which may be part of the mania and the energetic spin. Since I don’t have mania nearly as often as depression, I’m not familiar with this symptom. Or I don’t remember it. I’ve always been so identified with being a compulsive overeater, that the idea of not being hungry or even caring about food seems freakishly alien. So I will watch this and mark it.

But, there is definitely an urge to GO, and I catch myself spinning around starting to do one thing, stopping, starting another, stopping. I feel the nervy, acidic churn in my stomach. Last night at our weekly Criminal Minds get-together, I noticed that Tom turned up the volume on the TV several times, so that told me how much more I was nattering.

Management today will be a constant returning to my breath, reminders to stop and relax. Thursday is a busy day for me, and that will help use the energy my mania generates. So will more exercise. Our TOPS group plans to walk around a lake after our meeting today, which is perfect. As always, the Observer must be in the forefront, monitoring the impulses and flurry of thoughts, creating a space between them and me where I can find myself, creating a space to rest and slow down.

It’s all part of the Bipolar Dance. One cha-cha at a time.

Was Salvador Dali a Shut-In?

23 Mar 2012 28 Comments

by Sandy Sue in art, bipolar disorder, quality of life, relationships Tags: distorted thinking, home, isolating, surgery, TOPS

The life of a shut-in takes on a strange flavor. I feel a little like William Hurt in the old movie Altered States, floating in my sensory deprivation tank. Everything seems perfectly normal until I rub up against the outside world.

Wednesday my friends brought me to their house for supper and to watch Criminal Minds. At first, everything seemed homey and familiar—Gracie, their Border Collie whimpered with delight when I came in, spaghetti sauce smelled like spaghetti sauce, furniture rested on the floor the way gravity intended. But there was this odd thing we did at the dinner table. Conversation. What? And a different channel was showing on the TV. And Tom started playing his guitar while Scott Pelley relayed the news. The world started to cant sideways like an old Twilight Zone episode.

Back in the womb of my apartment, the weirdness faded. Hehehe. I’m not really a blob of morphing jelly-flesh in a Salvador Dali painting. Just a little stimulus-deprived. Yeah, that’s it.

Yesterday, one of the gals from TOPS gave me a ride to the meeting. What a treat to have all those women fuss over me. Such a lovely group of friends I’m building there. But, part-way through the meeting the sound of all those voices talking in a cavernous auditorium crossed a threshold. Is that what the Plague of Locusts sounded like? The hot metallic buzzing of billions of tiny, hairy legs rubbing together? I got a little dizzy.

A person can get used to living alone, can even come to prefer it. But, too long alone and cocooned by the same music, the same visual stimulus, the same, the same, the same… Well, it messes with the mind. And my mind doesn’t need any more messiness. I’m taking back my driving privileges this weekend and getting the hell out of Dodge.

This experience also makes me much more sympathetic to long-term shut-ins. If you know anyone who can’t get out of the home on their own, think about taking them for a ride. They might resist. That deprivation tank expands to encompass the whole world, so stepping outside it is jarring. But, friends don’t let friends turn into flesh-jelly.