The Bipolar Mommy

The Elephant in the Room

Last night at work, a few of us were talking and the subject of my being bipolar came up. One of the other guys with us is also bipolar (therefore, we have bonded). One friend who I will call “D” asked a very understandable question. I will quote as accurately as possible.

“So, what exactly is bipolar? Is it ups and downs? I have a lot of family members that are happy and then they get sad. Doesn’t everybody?”

Again, remember, I am remembering her words to the best of my ability despite the quotation marks.

The other bipolar (I’ll call him V) started to turn beet red. At that instant, we were reading each other’s thoughts.

People just don’t get it.

My explanation to her was that it wasn’t the normal ups and downs, and that it is really hard to describe unless you’ve been there. V had a very accurate description. He described it as being stuck in a deep well, and you’re trying to get out, but you are covered in Vaseline. Yeah, that’s pretty close.

After that conversation, it dawned on me like the elephant in the room. Despite this being a bipolar blog, I haven’t really truly discussed what bipolar disorder is like. For the ten of you who read this blog, I will attempt to explain to the best of my ability.

I have good days and I have bad days, like everyone else. I am lucky that I am on good medication and have a great counselor; therefore, my illness is pretty much under control. Most of the time.

The textbook definition of being bipolar is having extreme highs and lows. But what does that actually mean? Well, during my highs, I am the wittiest, smartest, most powerful person in the world. I am extremely productive. I am oozing with creativity. I want to do crazy and outrageous things, because I’m just that damn amazing. Sometimes, I don’t sleep.

And then, I come down to Earth.

My body gets flu-like symptoms. What many don’t understand is that bipolar disorder also has physical symptoms. I get horrible aches and pains. I have absolutely no energy. I sleep all day. Getting dressed is a Herculean effort. But that’s just the physical stuff. Mentally, I’m a wreck. I go from being incredibly awesome to the biggest loser. I don’t deserve to live. How could anyone love a person like me? I have had days where I had to call in sick to work because I just couldn’t handle things or get out of bed. And sometimes the thoughts come. Deep, dark thoughts. I imagine my own funeral. I see all of the people looming over my casket at my funeral. I’ll think of all the medications in my medicine cabinet and wonder how many pills I would have to take for all of it to be over.

Luckily, because I do what needs to be done to take care of myself, those days are few and far between. I have a wonderful supportive husband and family. I have good friends. I have a job that I like and I’m good at. I am stable. I am lucky.
Many, who are not so lucky, don’t make it. They either live completely miserable lives or commit suicide.

So you can understand why have some anxiety about becoming a mom – a bipolar mom. For many years, many psychiatrists would advise their bipolar patients not to have children because it would be “too much” for them, or because their children might be bipolar. Luckily, most psychiatrists have wised up. Only I know what is truly best for me. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t even try. That doesn’t mean I’m not scared.

I am not really sure if I gave the best description of what it is like, but it’s the best I can do for now.