Thursday, April 16, 2015
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Chocolate Covered Bacon
Delusion
de•lu•sion
dəˈlo͞oZHən
noun
an idiosyncratic belief or impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.
One of the problems with being bipolar, at least with regard to my flavor, is that it is filled with delusions. When I was diagnosed with Bipolar II my counselor told me the difference between Bipolar I (what we used to call Manic Depression) and Bipolar II is that if you are Bipolar I you walk down the street buck naked thinking you are Jesus Christ. Personally, I’ve never thought I was Jesus Christ.
For me, being delusional came with being bipolar. Had my bipolarity been more severe, those delusions would have turned up as psychosis. Instead, they would in my teenage years manifest themselves as paranoia, and later in my early adult years as delusions of grandeur. I remember coming up with many get-rich-quick schemes or business schemes, or plans for ministry. In my mind each plan was well thought out, and made perfect sense. However, to the rational person not one of my ideas was well-founded. One example would be when I decided to take out a $30,000 loan so I could attend computer school and become an IT expert. The problem was that while I was and am an intelligent person, I did not possess that aptitude for computers, computer networking, or network security, all of which were part of the program in which I was wishing to participate. Nevertheless – and keep in mind that this was all before my diagnosis – I managed to talk my mother into co-signing for the loan, and began taking classes. Less than a month later I was in deep water, so deep in fact that I was overwhelmed by the massive amounts new information thrown at me. So I quit. That’s what bipolar people often do when they can’t move on. They leave the task unfinished, which was for me just one of many.
One of my more recent delusions happened a few months ago when I started working a third shift job. Although I had worked third shift in the past, it had been many years since I tried adapting to an overnight work schedule. My entire daytime routine was thrown off balance, and within days of starting the job I was forgetting on a fairly regular basis to take my medication. When I did remember to take my meds, my mind and my body did not know what to do with them. Consequently, I began to spiral back into the old bipolar me. Within days I became depressed. Suicidal thoughts began to creep back in, and I got the most delusional idea for a business scheme I had come up with in a long time: I would get rich making and shipping chocolate covered bacon.
Before you think me too crazy, you need to realize that while the idea sounds far-fetched, it is not without precedent or merit. Bacon is extremely popular, as is chocolate, and the combination of the two is being done to this day. Also keep in mind that I am a very good cook, and in some people’s opinion qualify to be called a chef. Armed with my culinary knowledge and years of experience in the kitchen, I decided to make an experimental batch of chocolate covered bacon and see how it tasted. To my surprise, and the surprise of a few members of my family, it turned out delicious. I posted pictures of my product on Facebook, and declared myself open for business which netted me two orders totaling over $100. But that was during the holiday season, and as quickly as business took off, it dried up.
To make a long story short, I decided to make a more concerted effort to take my medication on a daily basis, and I quit the third shift job. Slowly I began to see the idea for chocolate covered bacon for what it was, a delusion. I never did make millions by shipping chocolate covered bacon overseas to the millions of people in China like I had planned, nor do I even make it for my family anymore. In fact, I can’t stand the stuff anymore having eaten more of it than anyone else. Had you told me in the beginning that I was being delusional, I would have argued with you and tried to convince you that you lacked vision for good ideas. On this side of the delusion, however, it is plain to see that it was all a crazy scheme.
de•lu•sion
dəˈlo͞oZHən
noun
an idiosyncratic belief or impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.
One of the problems with being bipolar, at least with regard to my flavor, is that it is filled with delusions. When I was diagnosed with Bipolar II my counselor told me the difference between Bipolar I (what we used to call Manic Depression) and Bipolar II is that if you are Bipolar I you walk down the street buck naked thinking you are Jesus Christ. Personally, I’ve never thought I was Jesus Christ.
For me, being delusional came with being bipolar. Had my bipolarity been more severe, those delusions would have turned up as psychosis. Instead, they would in my teenage years manifest themselves as paranoia, and later in my early adult years as delusions of grandeur. I remember coming up with many get-rich-quick schemes or business schemes, or plans for ministry. In my mind each plan was well thought out, and made perfect sense. However, to the rational person not one of my ideas was well-founded. One example would be when I decided to take out a $30,000 loan so I could attend computer school and become an IT expert. The problem was that while I was and am an intelligent person, I did not possess that aptitude for computers, computer networking, or network security, all of which were part of the program in which I was wishing to participate. Nevertheless – and keep in mind that this was all before my diagnosis – I managed to talk my mother into co-signing for the loan, and began taking classes. Less than a month later I was in deep water, so deep in fact that I was overwhelmed by the massive amounts new information thrown at me. So I quit. That’s what bipolar people often do when they can’t move on. They leave the task unfinished, which was for me just one of many.
One of my more recent delusions happened a few months ago when I started working a third shift job. Although I had worked third shift in the past, it had been many years since I tried adapting to an overnight work schedule. My entire daytime routine was thrown off balance, and within days of starting the job I was forgetting on a fairly regular basis to take my medication. When I did remember to take my meds, my mind and my body did not know what to do with them. Consequently, I began to spiral back into the old bipolar me. Within days I became depressed. Suicidal thoughts began to creep back in, and I got the most delusional idea for a business scheme I had come up with in a long time: I would get rich making and shipping chocolate covered bacon.
Before you think me too crazy, you need to realize that while the idea sounds far-fetched, it is not without precedent or merit. Bacon is extremely popular, as is chocolate, and the combination of the two is being done to this day. Also keep in mind that I am a very good cook, and in some people’s opinion qualify to be called a chef. Armed with my culinary knowledge and years of experience in the kitchen, I decided to make an experimental batch of chocolate covered bacon and see how it tasted. To my surprise, and the surprise of a few members of my family, it turned out delicious. I posted pictures of my product on Facebook, and declared myself open for business which netted me two orders totaling over $100. But that was during the holiday season, and as quickly as business took off, it dried up.
To make a long story short, I decided to make a more concerted effort to take my medication on a daily basis, and I quit the third shift job. Slowly I began to see the idea for chocolate covered bacon for what it was, a delusion. I never did make millions by shipping chocolate covered bacon overseas to the millions of people in China like I had planned, nor do I even make it for my family anymore. In fact, I can’t stand the stuff anymore having eaten more of it than anyone else. Had you told me in the beginning that I was being delusional, I would have argued with you and tried to convince you that you lacked vision for good ideas. On this side of the delusion, however, it is plain to see that it was all a crazy scheme.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Life on Meds
Before I was diagnosed as bipolar and treated with
medication, life was an unending roller coaster ride. There were highs that
would slowly climb to a pinnacle and fall over an apex that would quickly
plummet me into a chaotic vortex of spirals and loops of emotion. My diagnosis
was Bipolar II Mixed which meant at any given time the ride was high and low, up and
down, fast and slow. Rarely did it ever slow down long enough to give me a
chance to jump off. This changed, however, when I was diagnosed and given
medication. While the roller coaster did not stop, it did slow down enough for
me to see the world around me.
If you want to know what life is like for a bipolar person
on medication, think of the most chaotic, upsetting, wish you could just crawl
in a hole for a day moment. Add to that a touch of paranoia, a handful of
delusions, and perhaps a little bit of anger and rage just to make things
interesting. Imagine feeling like that
all the time. Now think of the normal you, the sober you, the you that is in
control of your emotions and day to day thoughts. Leave in about ten percent of
the chaos and emotional confusion, and this is life on medication. Life on
medication for me is not a 100% cure, but it is the closest thing to normal I
have felt in my entire life. It is called being stable. It is a new norm that
allows me to differentiate between the old, bipolar me, and the new me that
can handle the normal ups and down of life. Yes, there are still bipolar
symptoms that remain, but with 90% of the crap gone, what remains is
manageable
.
For me, what remains is mostly manic. I still have feelings of
anger that I try my best to push down, and I find myself plagued with delusional
thinking from time to time. With regard to the delusions, I will tell you that
without the medication I did not realize I was being delusional. Now with the
medication I recognize the delusions for what they are. Sometimes I push them
away, other times I allow myself to day dream and fantasize as if the situation
was real. In either case, I recognize them for what they are.
Life with medication has also allowed me to hop off the
roller coaster from time to time, and look at the ride for what it is. Thanks
to the medication I have been able to look back at my life and recognize very
specific times when I was depressed, manic, suicidal, delusional, co-dependent,
or paranoid. And perhaps this is the most painful part of being on medication,
because being able to look back with such clarity can be humiliating and painful,
and even embarrassing. Thus, with
medication there has come a difficult learning curve – how do like myself for
who I am, without hating the me that once was?
And I so I press on with my new-found freedom from
depression and hypomania, or at least what limited freedom I have been given. I
press on to new understanding about myself, my God, and my family. I live my
life as fully as I can while I can for as long as the medication works for me.
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