My 'break' and the barriers to constant reflection

WHEW! 7 months since the last blog post I authored. That’s definitely the longest I’ve gone since launching this thing nearly 3 years ago. When I started sharing my story I wanted it to be just as much for me as it was for you all following along. I wanted it to be educational, informative and emotional. I wanted it to be cathartic for me. I wanted people to see an example of bipolar disorder that may look different than what they think they know or have heard. And I think I’ve done that. But something that I promised myself was that I would be honest. I wouldn’t just share the wins, but also the learnings or losses in my life. And while I think I’ve mostly done that, the past 7 months have opened my eyes to the parts I have a hard time with. So let me break it down in hopes of making a change. 

In December I bought a house (wahoo! go me!) which was followed by nearly 3 months of renovations and remodeling. While I was smart enough to not subject myself to living in the renovations, there was still the stress of checking in on the progress of each project, paying the contractors, layering their jobs and schedules in a way that made the most sense for everyone to get their part done. I felt like I was an ATM that was constantly dispensing money to everyone. I’d have days where I was so proud of myself and excited for the next adventure, followed by days where I had no idea if I could afford all of the changes we were making, or things I was buying. It was an emotional roller coaster that I think anyone who has moved or bought a house can relate to. But for me, it can feel like the scary signs of a potential episode. 

When I would find myself on Pinterest for hours looking at paint colors, or I would go to Home Depot and completely lose track of time picking out lightbulbs, I’d worry that it was hypo-mania creeping in. Or when I would go on a spree and spend $300 at Target I’d stress that I did it accidentally, when really I planned and accounted for those purchases. 

My distrust in myself really escalated in February. We moved on February 9th and even though I had tons of help cleaning, packing and unpacking from my mom as well as professional movers, the act of moving in itself felt like a thing that was just bound to kick up something. Hypo-mania, please! (As opposed to mania of course.) And why would I not assume that? My last move definitely kicked me into high gear and was the first time, post diagnosis, that I needed to actively power my brain down when I noticed myself ‘trending up’. And if I’m being honest - the idea that a stressful life event would cause a manic episode is much easier for me to accept than the idea that I’m designed in a way where a chemical imbalance in my brain could cause mania - no life event necessary.  

So as I planned for the move, I also planned to avoid any highs. I kept my social content surface level, posting progress pictures of the house, but not sharing the emotional boxing match I was in every day with myself. At the time I didn’t even know I was doing it, but in hindsight it’s so clear. We all know what that social response can feel like. A dopamine kick that you can’t manufacture if you try. The reactions from people can lift you up, and elevate your mood in an instant. 

On the flip side - if you’re struggling, and you’re as lucky as me to have a tribe of people, in addition to a supportive and large family and network of colleagues, it can be an overwhelming reaction of support that you’re maybe not looking for or in need of at that moment. And I think that’s why for the past 3 years of openly sharing about my diagnosis and experience with mental health, I seem to only share about my struggles after they’ve passed. When people have the reassurance that I’m ok now. But I want to break that pattern. And first I need to acknowledge that I have a huge support system that is looking out for me. In addition to my partner Tony, who spends a lot of time with me and is never afraid to let me know if he notices a red flag, I live less than 15 minutes from my parents and see them often. I also have no less than 5 ‘safe people’ at work who know everything to look out for, and more importantly are open and honest with me when I ask them for feedback or observations (which is often). These people reassure me and help me check myself, kindly.  

They’re also accompanied by an extensive professional team. I see a psychiatrist quarterly, a therapist monthly, and a coach weekly. I’m lucky. And because of that, I think I can start sharing more honestly in the moment and hopefully my incredible network will be confident that I’m ok. I’m just going through it - like we all do. And choosing to share as a way to make myself feel better, but also to document what these highs and lows can look like. When I need help I will ask for it, and if I don’t ask and my support system sees something, they’ll say something.

So back to February. After moving on the 9th, we had 2 short weeks to get settled before bringing home our second pup Brogdon. We had postponed puppy number 2 at the start of the pandemic when I wasn’t sure what the future had in store for my job. Now, a year and a half later it felt comical when our breeder shared that a litter was born that had a boy for us, and their take home date was the end of February. Almost like the universe wanted me to ask myself - can you handle this?

And to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I could. But I felt supported enough to try. And the biggest thing I’ve learned - if you’re ok with changing the plan to prioritize your mental health, then you can always give something a shot. 

Many of you probably remember that my first manic episode that resulted in hospitalization and my diagnosis was just 6 days after we brought our first dog, Oscar home. Even almost 4 years later I have a hard time acknowledging ALL of the things that were different for me pre-diagnosis. The biggest being my awareness of having bipolar disorder. And because of that, I often attach similarities between past episodes and my current experiences without taking into account all of the things that have changed for me. 

I was definitely worried that I’d be overwhelmed. That potty training would be a disaster, and I wouldn’t get any sleep. That Oscar wouldn’t like having him around and we’d have to figure out how to make them spend time together. Trust me, I worried about it all. So before I brought the puppy home I asked my therapist if she thought it was a bad idea. And that’s when she reminded me of what I know to be true, but I want you to know too.

I know I have bipolar disorder now. I take medication to keep me balanced, and I pay attention to how much I sleep, as well as what my mood feels like and any emotions I’m having that I should tune into. I’m extremely self aware. I always have been. But now that I live with this diagnosis, that self awareness has become next level. Almost to the point where I’m policing what I’m sharing about my emotions because I want to temper your reactions in a form of protection for myself.  That was complicated and deep. To keep it simple - sometimes when I’m honest about how I’m feeling, you all want to be there and make me feel better, but I just want to feel. 

A couple of other things I noticed myself doing in an attempt to avoid mania. Keeping my schedule light. Especially when I have busy work weeks, I find it hard to save energy for lots of evening activities. A lot of people would probably say I’m an extrovert, but I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older that I’m certainly able to be natural in a crowd, but I get my energy from being by myself (or more often with Tony and my doggos).  The true definition of an introvert. And if I don’t protect that time to recharge, I will fry myself out and push myself over the edge into manic tendencies. 

Lastly, I have a strange relationship with social media. As a way to stay connected to people, and particularly find your tribe or share your experiences, I think it can be great. But my brain was also attached to social media in an unhealthy and addictive way during my first manic episode in 2018. I was posting puppy content nonstop and getting love and adoration back. Which was great, until I became obsessed. And that digital obsession contributed to my lack of sleep and grandiose thought track. If I’m being honest, I thought Oscar was going to be Instagram famous. And years later I still shudder when I see screenshots of the things I was posting and uploading in that week leading up to my hospitalization. So that embarrassment and ‘out of this world’ thinking has caused me to scale WAY back. But I always tell the business owners that I work with - you have to let people behind the curtain and be yourself on social. So I’m setting a goal to do that!

I made it through 2 large life events in the past 7 months and I’m still standing. I didn’t trust it then, but I know now that had I shared on social media or been more vulnerable with you all about what I was going through in the moment, there’s no way it would have negatively impacted me or my mood. Too much has changed in the past 3 years for something of that nature to catch me by surprise. For one, I keep a very close eye on my sleep and take medication that keeps my mood balanced and my brain rested. I also have a knowledge of bipolar disorder and the language to describe how I’m feeling and what I need. So as I shift back into regularly scheduled updates and sharing here as well as on my mental health Instagram account, let me know what you’d like to hear. Is there something you’ve wondered about or wanted to ask me before? Do you have someone you know who lives with or supports someone living with bipolar disorder? What would you like me to know about your experiences that maybe aren’t reflected in mine. 

I’m excited to share more with you and look forward to hearing what you’d like to know about as well.