Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (17 page)

The last section was titled:

Please answer the following questions to let us know how you are doing

I was thinking, great, they’re going to check on my condition; they hadn’t asked about that yet. You know, my age, sex, mental health condition, living conditions, work conditions, social interactions, self-esteem levels, happiness levels, et cetera . . . Wrong. They only asked two questions:

Are you still getting mental health services? (yes)

How long have you received mental health services from your provider?

1. Less than a year (continue to question 39)
   

2. One year or more (continue to question 42)
   

Questions 39-41 and questions 42-44 were the same. The ODMH only wanted to know if I had been arrested anytime in the previous two years and the occurrences of my encounters with the police over the past year. Even though there was not a space provided for a comment, I let the surveyors know how I felt about those last few questions: “The simple fact you ask about my police record more than my health record is
insulting
. This is once again a total waste of tax revenue! Instead of focusing on improving this health sector, you would rather investigate mental health relationships with drugs, crime, etc. . . . PATHETIC!!!”

Really glad I waited a day to cool down before completing that survey.

Session

JP: If you were so unhappy with the services, why didn’t you just get your care elsewhere?

DT: I tried, believe you me, I tried. But with my preexisting condition, I couldn’t receive insurance coverage anywhere I looked, so I was basically stuck. My plan was to ride out the summer as best as I could in Chicago and then get healthcare from the job I’d hopefully get from my internship. This would have allowed me to get my much-needed lithium, but that didn’t really work out like I planned. That whole preexisting-condition excuse is nonsense if you ask me. I mean, the insurance agents won’t even talk to you. Even the secretary knows you’re fucked and basically tells you good luck, then hangs up. These are people’s lives that are being affected, but I don’t think they can see past the profit margins or whatever other financial explanation they have on their business plans.

KEY TERMS
: RIGHT HOOK, FIRST LOVES, SOUL, MADNESS

Submitted on 2/25/11

Green

“
Why are you down there?”

“
Well, Jill, last night on the walk back to the dorm from the bar, you decided to punch me in the face, so I decided to sleep on the floor.”

“
Ha-ha, no I didn’t. I don’t remember that.”

“
Oh yeah, you definitely did it. The people behind us found it pretty entertaining as well. I can’t believe the first person to sucker punch me was my girlfriend . . .”

Ah, first loves, they do so much more for us than we realize at the time. I had no idea taking a right hook from my first love could actually pay off in the long run, but it has (well, my dignity is still a little roughed up, but you’ll have that). The other day on Sirius (those clever bastards put satellite in my new Jeep so of course I’m addicted now and will have to renew) I heard a song that reminded me of my first girlfriend, Jill, and I’d like to share some of those memories with you now.

I remember when we took our first vacation together in Panama City, and you convinced me to get a tattoo on my lower back. I’m pretty sure you knew the tramp stamp would become the international symbol of sluts within a couple of years, so, um, yeah, in hindsight that was a pretty bitchy move.

I remember when you were too tired to go out on my twenty-first, so we watched a movie and you fell asleep before midnight. So much for getting wrecked (or maybe even laid) like every other person celebrating their twenty-first birthday that night; so, um, yeah, in hindsight that was a pretty bitchy move.

I remember how you never came to the Witt bubble, so I always came “uptown” (there’s barely a town in Oxford, let alone the need to differentiate between uptown and downtown) to Miami, so often that when we split, the girls at Witt had never seen me. They assumed I was a freshmen and didn’t talk to me for a year, so, um, yeah, in hindsight that was a pretty bitchy move.

I remember when I drove to Miami for your track meet, and then we went out. You gave me a pair of sandals as a random gift, we had sex (you probably faked it, remember admitting that, too?), and then you broke my heart. So, um, yeah, in hindsight that was a pretty bitch move.

I know it sounds like I’m ripping my ex a ton here. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I realize I’m glad about what happened. If I didn’t go through all of that (and more) I wouldn’t be anywhere near ready to fight the fight I’m in now. Sure, Jill messed with my head, but what first love doesn’t? I needed some of that tough love because what I’m fighting now isn’t out to break my heart: it’s out to break my spirit and take my soul. So while I may have a Super Sweet Back Tat, a tiny complex in bed, a slight disdain for J. Crew U, and the unsettling fear of a phantom right cross taking me out at any time, they are exactly what I needed. Well, the complex-in-bed thing I could do without, but three out of four ain’t bad.

Session

JP: First loves do play a significant role in our psyches and emotional states. Did Jill happen to play any role in your mania?

DT: That’s the crazy thing; she’s never been involved whatsoever. None of my ex-girlfriends play a role in my madness--they did enough of that when we dated. Am I right or am I right? Or am I right? . . . Oooh, you know what I’m talking about.

KEY TERMS:
ASH WEDNESDAY, JC, FAITH, PSYCHOSIS

Submitted on 3/18/11

Green

Happy Birthday to Me!

Happy Birthday to Me!

I’m going to make fun of a religious tradition;

That’s protected under my First Amendment freedom of speech!

I will admit I’m a little behind on Christian traditions from my lack of attending church growing up. I’ve had docs dig into my psyche about why, and maybe some of it has to do with the fact that the last time I attended church was when Stubby lost his hand. So there might be a link there, but more than likely, I was just a kid who didn’t want to go with parents who didn’t make me. I never thought this would have affected me until Ash Wednesday at Witt a few years back.

I was working out one day when I kept seeing all these good-looking girls with black smudges on their foreheads. I didn’t know if it was some sorority thing, some secret (shhh don’t tell) thing, or what, so I went up to one girl and asked what was going on. She said it was for Ash Wednesday, with an arrogant attitude and in that “you’re surely going to hell” tone. Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were such a devoted follower of faith, judging from the shots you were slamming and the basketball player you were dry-humping last weekend at the bar. My mistake.

I was so pissed at the exchange that I never even bothered to look up what Ash Wednesday was until this week, when Digger was rocking the ashes on ESPN. I half-assed it at Wikipedia so take it for what it is:

Ash Wednesday
, in the
 
calendar
 
of
 
Western Christianity, is the first day of
 
Lent
 
and occurs 46 days before
 
Easter. It is a
 
moveable feast, falling on a different date each year because it is dependent on the
 
date of Easter. It can occur as early as February 4 or as late as March 10.

According to the Canonical gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, Jesus spent forty days fasting in the desert before the beginning of his public ministry, during which he endured temptation by Satan. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of this forty day liturgical period of prayer and fasting.

Ash Wednesday derives its name from the practice of placing ashes on the foreheads of adherents as a sign of mourning and repentance to God. It also means that we will always have sin. The ashes used are typically gathered after the palms from the previous year's Palm Sunday are burned.

This brings me to Lent, which I totally get a kick out of from time to time. So JC (never even knew he was Jewish till a few years ago) makes the total sacrifice for forty days and endures suffering, pain and Satan (not fun, that guy Lucifer sucks at life) to show his faith. It is impressive. I have trouble finding the connection between that and someone nowadays giving up fast food for Lent. Which is a real sacrifice and one I couldn’t do. I have an arrangement with the Big Man; I get fast food in return for the fourteen days of being committed in the wards. But JC roamed the desert for over a month, battling Lucifer and starvation, and you gave up a deep fried meal that is free if not accompanied by a receipt? I feel like someone’s getting the better deal here.

I find religion to be fascinating and a vital aspect of society, but how people practice it just makes me laugh at times. I hadn’t really contemplated my faith until after my episodes (psychosis will change a man) and for me it’s not about the show. It’s about what’s inside. So for the 90 percent or so of the people who read this and are offended, it’s my birthday, so give me a break. I’ve had a rough few years. I think I deserve it.

Session

JP:
For those with bipolar disorder, religion often plays a distinct role in their lives. Many find comfort and healing through prayer and find the support of their church families to be invaluable. However, some have also faced misunderstandings, judgment, and even accusations of demon possession.

DT: I think you should treat others only as you consent to being treated in the same situation.

JP: That’s great, Derek; did you just make that up?

DT: As far as you know.

JP: It’s the Golden Rule smart-ass.

KEY TERMS:
BIPOLAR THING, BEAKER, TESTS, SIMPLE

Submitted on 3/25/11

Green

“
I never would have thought you were bipolar, you don’t seem like it.”

--Drinking Buddy

I guess we all have our own mental images of what bipolar disorder or any other mental health condition looks like. Before my getaways in the psych wards, I always associated Beaker from the Muppets with mental health. I have no idea why my image is of a Muppet, but I mean, look at Beaker. He’s got all the physical attributes of a crazy person. Yeah, that’s not considered offensive as long as you’re crazy when you say it; it’s a bipolar thing. I suppose that I, along with my drinking buddy quoted above, had this preconceived notion of what mental health looks like, as a direct result of the environment we grew up in.

Growing up, I never saw a TV show or movie that portrayed someone with a mental health condition as a real person. They always seemed nonhuman, like they didn’t share the same fears, joys, pain or excitement that I felt.

The fact of the matter is that we are real people with real problems, just like everyone else; at least, I hope everyone struggles with online dating as much as I do. We worry about the same life issues everyone else has, except we are given an added burden. No matter what I would have changed or done differently growing up, it would not have affected whether or not I was BMD. Just ask the
M*A*S*H
voices I heard as a child; yeah, we’ll get to that not-fy-repressed memory soon enough.

I’ve been in group therapy and am now in individual therapy. I’ve had blood work, MRIs, EEGs, and every other complex test out there. Still there is no answer to what my BMD is and where it came from. All of this naturally leads me to wonder: Why do I have this? What am I supposed to do with something that can only be described as craziness? Am I supposed to fight the stigmas associated with BMD? Am I supposed to break the stereotypes my friends and others hold? Am I supposed to be a voice for those who may not be able to speak for themselves? Am I just supposed to write? Can it be that simple?