I was diagnosed last month with bipolar II disorder, the kind where I am very depressed and manic at the same time. And this was a real culture shock to me, not what I had in mind when I thought of my self image. I decided it was time to get professional help because I was having a really, really bad time of things. There were a few "tipping points" in my system as well. The first was one day, sitting at my desk at work, and I had probably the 7th or 8th suicidal vision in my mind of the day. And I said to myself, WTF is this. Now, mind you, I can look back and see that I have had this problem most of my life. And suicidal thoughts, well, I've had those on and off since I was about 13. But somehow, this recent pattern was different, both because it was very detailed, including the feeling of what it would be like, and because when I had this, by and large, it felt like it wasn't even me, but like I was watching a movie about myself.
Wake up call #2 came in late July. I found myself during the month of July driving like a total ass. Road Rage, big time. Which is completely opposite of how I normally drive, I'm usually too slow and cautious, courteous of other drivers, and I've never had anything on my record except a ticket in 1994 for going 32 in a 25mph zone. I was weaving in and out of heavy traffic, passing when I shouldn't, tailgating, honking and gesturing to other drivers. But the big wake up call came on a Friday afternoon, when I found myself running a red light at a busy intersection during evening rush hour traffic, once again with the feeling I was watching this happen in a movie, and it was the second time in 3 days I did this. 10 second after going through the light, and thank God I didn't hit someone, I said to myself, aloud, in the car, literally the words "What the Fuck did you just do? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?" 30 seconds after that, I was shaking so hard I felt like I was going to lose the grip on the wheel. A mile down the road from that, I said, "God, I need help. And I can't EVER do that kind of thing again." And through sheer willpower and fear, I was able from that moment on capable of reining it in. Took some willpower, but I got that under control. Because I could live with the thought of killing myself, but not an innocent person.
Third and final wake up call came a week or so later, a day or two after the mass shooting at the Sikh temple in Wisconsin. I received a number of angry, irate phone calls from a client who is severely mentally ill and has serious drug and alcohol problems. At one point, because I couldn't do what he wanted, which was completely irrational, he started to threaten to "come down there and blow your fucking head off." And I took about 20 phone calls that afternoon from him where he threatened to shoot me. And something about my background, my father was seriously mentally ill, and as a teenager he had pointed a gun at me on more than a handful of occasions with the same kind of threat. So, when this happened, I actually did try to hold it together at work, but I lost it on the way home, pulled over into the parking lot of a Lowe's and threw up for 20 minutes. When I finally got home, I paced for over an hour like a caged animal. Something in me snapped, it was the last straw. And actually that night, because I felt so trapped and vulnerable, I did ONE good thing, I decided to take a walk.
Mind you, I'm 47, I was close to 50 lbs overweight that night (now about 40), hadn't done any exercise in at least 3-4 years, and to top it all off, the past year was a disaster health wise. I hadn't gone to the doctor for a number of years. Gained at least half of my weight in just the past 10 months due to drinking Mt. Dew, Coke, and Pepsi nonstop, but eating practically nothing, certainly nothing healthy. So, I thought maybe I could walk half I mile. Ended up doing a couple, and it helped the stress tremendously. Within a week/10 days, I was walking 4-5 miles in the morning, and 2-3 in the evening every day.
Well, I will just nutshell it now, because I could go on for hours with details. I did some research online, found a psychiatrist locally, and went to see her. Started treatment on a mood stabilizing drug and am currently in a short term "day program" at a large Detroit area hospital. Had a really, really bumpy August and early September, mostly due to fears of what all of this meant for my future. Hanging by a thread at work, but at least hanging on for now. And one big thing, I have kept up with the exercise, and that feels so good, sometimes it feels like the only good thing in my life right now. That in and of itself was a little tough -- I was walking so much I ended up in the ER with a left food that was basically one giant, blistered, open wound, over half of the surface area of the bottom of my foot was either raw or blistered. Then I had to follow up with a podiatrist, who looked at me like I was crazy for doing this to myself. Well, I didn't tell him all of this, but basically, he got it right, LOL.
So, I got my bike down from the hook on the garage wall where I hung it up 21 years ago, November 1991, took it to a local bike shop, had them do a major fixup/maintenance, and started riding. I'm now doing around 8-10 miles both morning and evening, and last friday night I had my longest ride yet, 15.67 miles. That all feels pretty awesome. Not losing ANY weight now, which is frustrating, I've had problems eating much, have been getting like 800 calories a day which is slowing my metabolism. So total weigh loss so far has been around 10 lbs. But I see tremendous other benefits, my stamina and strength are much improved, my breathing is better, endurance is better.
I won't sugar coat this for anyone, this has been the most embarrassing, degrading, dehumanizing experience of my life in some ways, from facing the things I did driving to having to check myself into a psychiatric program. But I'm glad I did it. I could have chosen to allow this to consume me. I chose to fight back against my abnormal neurobiology. I am also in process of getting my physical health issues back under control and management, including going back to neurologist to deal with currently untreated severe sleep apnea.
Take care of yourself, guys, no one else can do it for you. And it's just NOT worth it to let your health go to Hell. May seem like the easier route at the time, but it WILL come back to bite you on the ass big time.
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My biggest issue is my smoking. I have been smoking since I was 16; 18, is when I started about a pack a day; by the time I was 22, it was 2 packs. At least when I was younger, I was active in sports. When I lived in New Orleans, I walked every where, so my weight was under control, until I slipped into a major depression, which included a severe bout of agoraphobia, so I started to put on weight again. I am short and ended up at 185lbs. I am 165lbs now, but still need to lose about 40lbs.
