Day of Life 2019
Originally posted on November 20, 2019.
Hello all! Today I celebrate my 12th day of life. For long-time friends of mine, you'll recognize the themes of this annual post. On November 20, 2007, I attempted suicide. I have written a post every year since 2015 to celebrate making it another year, to discuss mental illness and bipolar disorder, and to explain why breaking stigmas surrounding mental illness is so important.
Bipolar is a brutal disorder that affects me every single day. It is comprised of depression and mania. Depression is better understood every year, it seems--it's an anchor that makes even the most simple tasks nearly impossible, pins me to a couch or bed, and risks dragging me under. Mania is the one most people don't get, and that makes sense. It's different for everyone, and to describe it is bizarre. For me, manic episodes tend to be my brain latching on to something and refusing to let go for a few days. As you can imagine, sometimes this is a damn superpower; I can crank out work or school assignments in volume and extreme quality, I create new and innovative strategies for my ultimate teams, I clean my whole house in an afternoon. Unfortunately, I cannot choose what my mania decides to attach itself to. Sometimes it attaches to harmful attitudes and behavior, or things I have no control over, or things that are otherwise counterproductive to my life. And whether my manic episodes are productive or not, they leave me extremely impatient with the people around me, and absolutely exhausted at the end of it all--that happens when you don't sleep, I hear.
Anxiety is a whole other thing. I will get things stuck in my head and be unable to let them go, getting more and more unsettled by the thoughts and/or feelings that I can become paralyzed (sometimes, for brief stretches, literally), out of breath, or unfocused to the point of being unable to function. Sometimes things will trigger the anxiety--such as my current fruitless job hunt--and other times it will come out of nowhere, from nothing.
I would say on an average month, I am depressed nearly three weeks to significantly varying degrees, I am manic somewhere between 4 and 8 days, and dealing with anxiety intermittently every few days. The days that feature no symptoms at all are rare (non-existent?), and I spend them either recharging, or trying to get out ahead of the next stretch. Because of the severity of this disorder, I am more likely to die by suicide than any other way--up to 19% of those with bipolar die from suicide. Absolutely horrifying.
All this to say, I am still me! I am NOT this disorder. I am a goofy guy who is passionate about sports, TV, politics, my teams, my friends and family. I'm deeply nostalgic and prone to tearing up at old Facebook pictures or particularly beautiful songs. Me being hyper is not necessarily me being manic. Me crying over Avatar: the Last Airbender is me being the sap that I am, not me being depressed. It's so important to me that you understand that--I am myself, fully. I battle this thing, and sometimes you can see that fight and oftentimes you cannot. One of my greatest fears of sharing this story each year is that people will come to view me as my bipolar, instead of a person who battles bipolar. I've lost dozens of friends who were unable to stand by me in this fight. I always understand, but it hurts every time.
I have to admit, this year I don't feel like celebrating. I'm just so worn out and tired. Between last November 20 and today, I lost my job to downsizing, lost several friends, cut back on the amount of coaching I have been doing, and saw the passing of two grandparents. I'm on a seemingly neverending job search that has upped my anxiety to crushing levels almost daily, a situation that has hurt my performance at my part-time job, as a coach, as a student, and as a friend.
People call this post brave every year, and I really appreciate it. But I wish it wasn't brave to talk about my mental illness. The facts are that by writing this post in this current place in my life, I'm risking people misunderstanding what I am capable of, overlooking all that I have accomplished as a coach, leader, and co-worker, and potentially avoiding working with me. This post could literally keep me from getting full-time employment. It IS brave of me to share.
But that's bullshit. It's brave of me to keep fighting. It's brave for me to achieve what I have despite what I have to face every day. But it shouldn't be brave of me to share. As a society and as individuals, we must get to a place of understanding people who deal with mental illnesses. There are so many of us that are not only capable, but battle-tested. We aren't liabilities. We are proven powerhouses that survive and advance and thrive. But it becomes easier, and makes it more likely that we will reach our full potential, when we are surrounded by people who understand. Bosses, co-workers, teammates, friends, family. It doesn't take as much as you'd think. We are used to making it on our own.
So if you are interested in creating that deeper understanding for yourself, here are a bunch of links where I have written in-depth about bipolar. The 2018 post and the post about gun control have many sources cited and linked in those posts. The 2015 is the original post I made, and is worth a read for where I came from.
You can also donate money towards organizations that break down stigmas and help provide better mental health care in our country. I've included a link to donate to one such organization. Since this is my 12th day of life, consider donating $12, but of course any amount is helpful and appreciated.
I want to end with a message to those of you out there that are struggling with mental illness. You are incredible. You've overcome so much to get to today. And while there is still so much further to go, you are strong. You have been through it and made it every time. You are a warrior, and I'm in awe of you. And you are never, ever alone.