Strength in Spirit

Strength of Spirit

In my twenties, I used to lament the fact that I had been diagnosed with a mental illness and I couldn’t understand why the universe had cursed me with such a traumatic condition. Since childhood, I always knew that my brain was different than my friends’ and families’ brains but being diagnosed was too much.

As I matured, I continued to struggle with acceptance and coming to terms with a life-long challenge that wasn’t going to go into spontaneous remission (though at times I thought I’d spontaneously combust). Now, instead of lamenting on what I can’t be like, I focus on as much of the positive aspects of my life – both past and – present and I look forward to what’s yet to come.

Every day, I try to think about what the universe has given me – a loving family, amazing friends, creative talents, a roof over my head and so on. I finally feel like the many traumas that I’ve endured over my lifetime have made me uniquely qualified to help other people in need. And, when I’m in a manic phase, it’s usually manageable and I’m a whole lot of fun!

No one has it easy but if we can keep our lights shining even if they’ve gone somewhat dim, with our human spirits we can endure so many things.

Meltdown

Today was a rare rough day for me. My mania has been high this past weekend as some of you might have seen my wild bunny wolf pictures from last Friday. If you don’t know, I was on the great Bunny Bar Hop to 5 bars and it was a superlative occasion. I truly let my incandescence blaze but didn’t get enough sleep. Add to that that I went out with my roomy and a friend until 3am on Saturday and I might have overdone it a bit.

This morning, I woke up with some serious anxiety about money and finding work that was fueled by my mania. Thankfully, I managed to sleep a solid 7 hours and I took it slow in the morning but didn’t take the anti anxiety benzo thinking that I would calm down organically. Not so! My agitation got worse on the train to JP and I started to meltdown. 

I did some drawing and started to cry while I thought about being a failure, was overwhelmed but smells, sights and sounds and finally got off the train. I called my main support, my mother and she helped to calm me with her rational and sane demeanor . If it weren’t for her amazing support for all these years, I’d either be dead or homeless.

During our 15 minute conversation I yelled, babbled, cried some more and generally freaked out while sitting outside of Green St. station. My mom is very rational and good with me in these moments. I also called my ex Alana after taking my benzo and she also talked me through and helped me to put my life in perspective so that I didn’t tumble into a full blown manic depression.

The lesson here is that we all need backup in all sorts of moments of crisis. I always recommend people have at least three people that they can talk to when the shit goes down in their lives. Hopefully, you have more than three. Men often need the back-up advice even more than the women I know. It took me a while to learn to truly be open and honest with my friends and family even in the moments that I wanted to hurt myself.

Heading For The High Life (Bipolar Disorder PI)

As I may have mentioned before, I have a chronic condition that I’ve contended with for over half of my life. It’s called bipolar disorder and I try to look at less as a disease and more as a difficult neurotransmitter challenge. The biggest question I get from people who are unfamiliar with the condition is: “Aren’t we all bipolar?”. To some degree, yes. In this bloody complex and oft times difficult world, it’s hard not to get beaten down by all the stresses out there and in turn get cranked up when things are going splendidly. Sure, it’s easy to get depressed about the state of world affairs but to flip around and hit a manic high tends to be much less common.

For those of you not familiar with mania or hypomania, just imagine downing 10 cups of coffee, having your birthday as a kid and the excitement that ensues the night before knowing that you’re going to have a slew of presents and cake. When I was a kid, insomnia would hit me the night before but it was only temporary. Now multiply this feeling by weeks or sometimes months without an obvious precipitating event, toss in some insomnia and constant exuberance and voila, you have one of my hypomanic periods of my life.

My hypomania can be really fun for a while. I tend to be the life of all the parties that I attend and a social dragonfly wherever I go.  Basically, I’m on happy fire and I don’t want anything to bring me down off of it (though my family would have otherwise). I tend to call them at odd hours but for my brother in Spain, calling him at 3am my time is late morning for him so he find’s it entertaining but clearly knows that I’ve entered the hypomania zone. I’ve learned not to torture my mom in the early morning but when I call her during the day and blather on incessantly about my life plans, some grandiose and others somewhat realistic, she stays calm and bears with me.

The big downside to the power of the hypomania is that when my insomnia starts to catch up, I can get irritable and easily agitated by small things. I also tend to drive a bit recklessly and want to drink more and spend money that I don’t have. There isn’t any relaxation with the hypomanic state and my stress levels can be tipped towards anxiety and constant tension even when I’m happy and high on life. (to be continued)

Ready To Head Into The Magic Mania

Hypomania? What The Heck?

a classic photo of a hypomanic Pauly gesture, not your average Buddhist pose...

The other day, my friend J. asked me what a hypomanic (HM) episode was like. I told her it was different for everyone with the “condition” and for some people, contrary to the stereotype, a MH state could be filled with anxiety, anger and intense impatience. This isn’t the case for me though; I tend to be able to enjoy my HM periods immensely much to the annoyance of my family.

To put it in a poetic way, my HM is like incandescent energy emanating from my brain and body that illuminates everyone and everything around me. It’s akin to the energy of the sun exiting my third eye and invigorating all material molecules within a 100-yard radius. In other words, it can be a damn good time

I wouldn’t describe my HM as an episode unless you can imagine an episode lasting for weeks to a few months on end. At this point in my life, I can harness my HM energy for creative endeavors and living life to the fullest. Since I don’t party anymore, my thirst for excessive entertainment is mostly quelled (though the temptation is always around when I’m flying high). I also get a bit randy as Austin Powers would put it, but since I have strong morals, I avoid trouble (mostly).

The best way to conceptualize HM for you strangers to the “force” is to imagine you’re seven on the night before your eighth birthday. Remember that intense excitement and impatience the eve of your special day and the sleeplessness that might have accompanied your elation. Your birthday arrives, you see a stack of presents, you smell cake and your adrenaline is through the roof.

This is a bit what it’s like to feel fully HM in my world only it doesn’t require a sweet event like my birthday or any other occasion. I get to enjoy this sort of euphoria for no obvious reason. Usually, it’s seasonal and come spring, I am visited by the manic fairy and with a wave of her hypomanic wand, voila! I’m once again launched into my own personal elation stratosphere.

Sadly, the ride isn’t free and I have caused some worry and stress for my mother and my ex-girlfriends and wives (yes, I’ve been married 2x) as well. My HM probably contributed to my first divorce though there were certainly other factors involved. I know that I drove my second wife Alana nuts and when I would babble incessantly around my mom or stepdad, they’d have some worried looks on their faces. I’m sure calling my brother Greg in Spain in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep alternately entertained and freaked him out a bit.

More on this topic later….

Having Fun With A Manic Musical Moment

I have an interesting manic memory about an event at my alma mater, American University that happened in Spring of 1989 during my sophomore year. It involved a guitar, a wireless guitar transmitter and a whole lot of rock ‘n roll noise. Sometimes hypomania lends itself to a need for attention; at this incandescent juncture in my life I craved it.

With my new guitar wireless that I had bought on one of my spending sprees, I set up my amplifier in my 6^th floor dorm window overlooking the dorm’s quad. It was a square, unadorned courtyard made up of two drab looking residence halls, Letts and Anderson that were built in the 70s, an era when good architecture was sorely lacking.

I cranked the amp’s volume to 10 (though had there been an 11, my solo Spinal Tap performance would have been complete). I sat on a bench in the middle of the quad with my over-the-top Jackson electric guitar that was festooned with a vibrant yellow and black crackle paint job. It was a fitting manic color scheme but now I cringe when I see a picture of it.

I plugged the wireless unit into my guitar, turned it on and proceeded to unleash a barrage of solos and riffs on the unsuspecting residents of the halls. No one realized what was going on as I played numerous notes and chords that reverberated throughout the quad; its rectangular design was perfect for the added echo effect.

The resident assistants and hall staff had no clue that the guy sitting on the outside bench with the crazy gleam in his eye and the obnoxious looking guitar was creating the cacophony that assaulted the dorms. Even the students who walked by me were clueless to my creative disharmony. I remember that one thing I played was the “Star Spangled Banner. Since I was practicing about two hours a day, I was pretty decent.

The only kink in my plans was that my amp was creating a thunder on the 6^th floor. Some of the residents on my floor told me later that they wanted to string me up because of the roar my performance. Fortunately, I was well liked and I and my floor mates knew that I was a bit nuts so they didn’t call the staff to complain. I kept the noise to about 10 minutes to avoid over-doing it and getting caught. I apologized to those on my floor that I had inadvertently tortured.

Right after my fun, the university instituted a policy banning anyone from playing music out of his or her windows. At that time, it was a proud moment for me and thinking about it now makes me giggle a bit.

Me, my yellow ax and a friend. AU dormroom, 1989

The quad where my solo show happened (minus the kids in the "rally"). My dorm was on the left. I sat on the bench that the dude on right is standing on.

Brightest Brights, Darkest Nights

When you have bipolar disorder, life is filled with extremes. Some periods are depressing and others can be really wild and funny. Not much happens in emotional moderation for me. The calm and lucid times seem to be few but I suspect that’s an illusion because like most people I tend to overlook the quiet and mundane moments. I call these middle, tranquil moments the blue areas because the color represents the coolness and peace in my life. The hypomania is bright red and of course depression is gray.

I generally sit and meditate during all parts of my spectrum though the hypomanic moments are the hardest to sit still in; during these periods my energy radiates from my body and brain in an incandescent way. Through the dark times, meditation is easier because I already tend to withdraw into myself and my low energy lends itself to stillness if I can gain some control over my negative, obsessive thoughts.

When I sit, I use a zafu (a supportive meditation cushion filled with buckwheat seeds), and burn incense along and ringing my singing bowl. This process helps me to feel harmony and it also facilitates my healing and gives me a space to breath. These days, I also focus on a huge book of images called “Celestial Mandalas” by the amazing Tibetan artist Romio Shrestha. Sometimes I’ll use soundscape music. Lately it’s been Steve Roach’s “A Deeper Stillness” and Nelson Foltz and Tom Lynn’s “Still Life – Volume Two”.

I’m definitely not suggesting that meditation should only be reserved for the dark nights of the soul. It can also truly enhance life when you’re in the luminosity of the brightest lights or the glow of the soothing colors as well. But for my successful coping techniques with my type of chronic illness, there is no substitute for meditating.

A soothing section of a cactus to represent my cool, blue areas..

 

A new entry into my YouTube VidBlog:

Prosperous Journey

My concept of wealth and prosperity has changed a great deal over my lifetime. I used to think that as a creative, that I wasn’t going to be successful. I was an outsider with different values than my family. I wasn’t going to have the great victorian house in suburban Boston or be a well-off business person like my parents. My brother achieved a successful business life in Spain and next to him, I used to feel like a failure. This was a hard to concept to cope with. I always felt like I was living in the furthest shadows of my family’s monetary successes.

After my years studying Buddhism and psychology and being an artist, my perception of success has changed. I’m no longer concerned with owning property and material wealth though having a small place of my own someday will happen. I still want to make money and be paid fairly for my skills and knowledge but it’s not my primary goal. I’ve now found terrific contentment in my work in wellness, my art, music and my writing. My talents are more obvious to me and even though I’m a jack-of-all-trades, I realize that having my various creative skills enriches my life significantly.

Finding peace in mindful meditation is something that has no dollar amount attached to it. Sitting for even a fifteen minute session gives me stillness that I’ve never had previous to my regular practice (thought I feel better if I can sit for a half hour to an hour). Dealing with my bipolar disorder will never be easy, but I’ve often found relief from it that I never had before I found my path.

As most of us know, our lives will have moments of suffering but also plenty of simple and wonderful joys. Mindfulness has shown me appreciation for those simpler moments in life like enjoying the great coffee I’m drinking right now. I taste more, I see more in nature and around me and I feel even more connected to the good people that I meet in my travels. For me, this has become a prosperous life.

Brightest Brights, Darkest Nights

When you have bipolar disorder, life is filled with extremes. Nothing seems to come in moderation and the blue areas seem to be few. I call these middle, calm moments the blue areas because to me it represents coolness and peace. The hypomania would be red mixed with orange and yellow as in glowing flames and embers. The depression would of course be gray or black but even dark blue can be in there too. The hypomanic phases tend to be on the red spectrum but I also experience a good dose of purple because this is when my creativity peaks and I purple is my favorite and most influential color. Right now, I’m pretty far down the gray part of the spectrum though there are some midnight blues too.

I try to sit an meditate on all parts of the spectrum regardless of my colors though the hypomanic moments are hard to sit still in. Hitting the dark phase is not too bad as I find stillness and inner peace to be a critical part of my program. When I sit on my zafu (my buckwheat pillow that supports my butt and gives me good form) and my cushion and burn my incense, I feel an energy that soothes me. These days, I focus on a huge book of mandalas, “Celestial Mandalas” by amazing Tibetan artist Romio Shrestha, and pick one of his complex pieces to hone my attention in on. I also use meditation music and lately it’s been Steve Roach’s “A Deeper Stillness” and “Still Life – Volume Two” by Nelson Foltz and Tom Lynn. I think stillness is the key word here.

I’m not suggesting that meditation should only be reserved for the dark nights of the soul. I feel that it can also enhance your life when your hanging in the brightest lights as well. But, in addition to some psychiatric help, lots of family and friend support, and maybe some good comedies and soothing music, there is no substitute for finding the stillness and peace of a good sit.