Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (22 page)

I forgot that my family and friends are right there alongside me, fighting just as hard, trying to handle my BMD in their own ways. When I saw how much it hurt my dad to realize that saying crazy really bothered me, I had a revelation. What kind of selfish person would I be if I tried to tell everyone involved in this how to act and to handle this BMD?

One of my biggest complaints with my doctors was that they didn’t understand what had happened and therefore couldn’t help. I was doing the same thing to my family and friends. I have no idea what they are going through and can’t understand it, but the difference is they aren’t going anywhere. I know I’m a little bit crazy and I forgot how proud I am of that. If I can’t handle a little joke with my dad, then this is going to be a long and lonely ride. Oh, and if anyone is looking for a gift on my behalf this holiday season, a “Crazy Bi-Polar Bitch” shirt wouldn’t necessarily be a bad idea.

Session

JP:
I found a study by DBSA that focused on stigmas associated with mental illness. I think it’s pretty interesting:

DBSA commissioned a survey of 1,200 American adults, a sample representative of the U.S. population in terms of gender, race, ethnicity, geography and education, and found that many people still need to be educated about mood disorders, especially bipolar disorder. Stigmatizing attitudes were not held by the majority of people surveyed. However approximately one in four people, which is one in four people too many, believed people with mood disorders are not just like everyone else (18%); they should not have children (19%); they are easy to identify in the workplace (26%); 
and they do not live “normal” lives when treated (29%). Two-thirds of survey respondents also held the incorrect belief that mood disorder medications are habit forming.

DT: Well, when you’re right, you’re right, JP; that is damn interesting. Especially since I would have figured the numbers would have been much higher and therefore a lot worse than these stats show. So that’s what I’m talking about, America! I take back all those bad things I said about you behind your back.

KEY TERMS:
NICKNAME, THICK SKIN, PSYCHOTIC, NONHUMAN

Submitted on 12/1/09

Yellow

Boney Ass, Scrawny, Skinny, Chicken Legs, Dope Fein Derek, Twig, Grass Fairy, Skin-and-Bones, Butter, Butta, and the list goes on and on.

I am absolutely positive I am not the only one in the world who has been called a nickname from time to time, as it’s undoubtedly a rite of passage while growing up. At times these names can be embarrassing or a little bit hurtful but I believe it’s all just part of the game. Everyone is going to be made fun of, and name-calling is as much a part of our culture as deep- frying anything and covering it with sugar is. I am by no means unfamiliar with this activity. I have many times in the past dropped a nickname on some totally unsuspecting soul to get a rise out of everyone else around. While my intentions were not always of the best nature, I hope that each receiver of a nickname has a sense of humor and can let it go (and if not, then you deserved it).

I have learned that in order to survive, I must have thick skin. The list of names I’ve been called and have heard others called is downright impressive and a bit worrisome. To think how much time and effort someone would take to rhyme a name with a non-hygienic body part . . . I’m a little worried of what they could do if that energy was spent elsewhere. But I am not here to change the ways of the youth (hell, I’m no more mature than them, anyway). That being said, I did read my papers from my mini vacation at Porter Hospital psych ward last year, and being called psychotic isn’t the best feeling.

I recently sifted through the belongings bag that I was allowed to bring home from Porter Hospital after my episode, and I found a few interesting things. There was the drawing in which I compare myself to an otter (I’m not even sure what exactly an otter is), the short
story of my high school buddies and I waking up on a plantation during the Great Depression (not random at all), and my emotions diary which consisted of a business plan for a roller-shoe paintball abandoned warehouse game (all rights and trademarks reserved by .e4). While all of these were interesting, the doctor evaluation that labeled me psychotic was my main focus.

To think I was in a state of mind that caused me to behave in such a way that others feared me--it’s something I have trouble grasping. I still think of myself as a five-foot- nothing freshman, walking into high school with a bowl cut and weighing 100 pounds soaking wet; so to try and imagine someone feeling threatened by me is mindboggling. Having this label thrust upon you, implying that you are unstable and a threat to others, takes just about everything you know about yourself and throws it out the window. You feel nonhuman.

I’m not 100 percent sure how I was supposed to take the news, that a professional feared me enough to have me court-ordered to be held in a psych ward. But to strip away my identity to the point that I don’t feel human probably isn’t the result they were looking for. The only way I know how to try and handle it is to pick myself up and keep going. To say I don’t care or that I don’t think about the names some people might use to describe the bipolar me would be a lie. But it’s those name-calling actions as a boy and the ones I still hear today that motivate me to prove them all wrong. This bowl-haired psychotic chicken- legged grass fairy can thank those nicknames for making me who I am today, even if it took twenty-eight years to figure out who that is.

Session

DT: It’s really ironic, how sure I am of myself here and how in less than a month, I’d be in my second psych ward with psychosis, trying to find myself once again.

JP: The only constant in this universe is change.

KEY TERMS:
SOUTHSIDE!, LOST, CHICKEN STOMP, SIS

Submitted on 2/23/10

Yellow

I have a midterm tomorrow in Sports Finance (yes, it’s as fun as it sounds) and I have yet to start studying. I really intended to begin last night, but I found a Warren Miller movie on Netflix on Demand, and I spent the next eighty minutes getting lost in my mind. When I was being admitted in The Nasty, the only evaluation question I can remember was:

“
What can we help you with while you are here, what do you want from us?”

“
I’m lost. I need help getting back.”

The next questions they asked, I have no idea about because that first night, all I can recall is sitting in the hallway of the unit (Southside!) rocking back and forth and being absolutely terrified of showering. I didn’t want to rinse away the poison and hurt other people; typical bathing issue, ya know.

Luckily, I felt like I was back from being lost about two weeks ago, when I stood up and danced to Pretty Lights’ “After Midnight LIVE Mix” by myself in the middle of the day. The following weekend, I attended the farm show in Louisville, Kentucky and had a blast for three solid road trip reasons:

1.) A good road trip will introduce at least one new band/musician/entertainer/stripper into your life. (Rob Heiliger is all of the above and then some)

2.) Quality road trips extend your branches or strengthen your roots. (The Farm Show, Zanzabar, and Chicken Stomp represented this very nicely)

3.) Finally this road trip helped me learn something new about someone. (Cuzin Art is a DICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

The last couple of weeks, I’ve felt like myself again, which was amazing but unfortunately temporary. I’ve been feeling my mania again for the first time since the episode. I’m not manic (calm down, Mom). I can just feel it like I did after my first episode, and it can at times pull me places. For instance, I was dead sure I was moving to Chi-Town after my classes for an internship, but lately I’ve been thinking of a couple of other destinations as well. Now, while the mania may push and pull me from time to time, there’s a crazy thing happening: I feel more like myself when I jump from idea to idea than if I concentrate on one thing at a time. Makes perfect sense, I know.

Another reason for my procrastination is that my sis is coming in on Thursday. My sis is a Southern belle of a pony who is currently somehow responsible for the entire city of Atlanta’s social calendar; plus she’s a newlywed, so her schedule is intense. I almost begin to shake, thinking of her coming to town, because without her I’m not sure where I’d be today.

During episode deuce, the mania really flipped everything on me, and it made me trust absolutely no one, not even myself; weird, I know. So when I needed help, it got complicated to ask for help while at the same time trying to fool myself into thinking I wasn’t getting help. This involved like a six-hour conversation on the phone with my sis as I drifted in and out of the levels of consciousness in my mind, holding my breath, crawling on my stomach, flipping my phone, speaking quickly and sharply, and trying not to end mankind . . . just one of those days. Thanks to that lil’ pony, I was able to make it to the hospital and ask for help, so the midterm just isn’t a priority right meow.

Session

JP:
Having a strong support system can be the difference between life and death for many people. This group of family members, friends, professionals, and the like can provide a solid foundation for fighting bipolar disorder. It seems here your sister would fit into this group quite nicely.

DT: Yeah, she’s unbelievable. To stay on the phone with me and find the hospital and set everything up to make sure I was alright is more than anything I could have ever asked for. I owe her a lot. I’ve seen people turn their backs on me, and I’d never have thought that was possible, but in the same breath, I’ve got people like Jenny who would move the earth so I could walk easier. Without my support system, I wouldn’t be here today.

JP: Which also means you never would have met me, so lucky you.

DT: Yeah, unlucky in love but lucky in finding middle-aged gay men to share the most intimate details about my life. That worked out quite nicely for me.

KEY TERMS:
Why?

Submitted on 3/29/10

Yellow

Why?

Will you please tell me a few things to help me sleep through the night?

Will you please tell me a story that shuts out the darkness and reveals the light?

Does anyone know what it’s like to be higher than life?

Does anyone know how to tell the difference between wrong and right?

Have you felt the aftereffects of the notion of righteousness?

Have you felt the satanic whisper in your ear, guiding your life into complete distress?

I can’t try to begin to understand what goes on inside my own mind.

I can’t try to begin to comprehend the one question I have, why?

Session

JP: I really like this, Derek. Color me impressed.

DT: Danke.

KEY TERMS:
IT’S SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THAT

Submitted on 7/21/10

Yellow

.i am constantly aksed the same question whenever someone learns of my disordeR .they always seam to desire to no what exactly its likE ?after I tell that i suffer from severe manic episodes witch feature hallucinations, delusional thoughts, and schizophrenic symptoms they ask; what’s that likE ?at first I tried to explain it to them in medical terminologY .i would discuss how the brain has chemical reactions and the episodes are somehow connectected to these chemical reactionS .of corse this really didn’t shed any lite on the subject so i decided to try and get a little more in deptH .I wood start out by describing what first starts to happen to me physicallY .my hands and arms first begin to tingle and become red and sore (knot exactly like but close enough to lead my mind into believing I have signs of stigmatA) .next a sensation that can only be compared to orgasmic travels up my spine and down my legS .my surroundings begin to take form, not physical form but a feeling of connection overtakes me with theM .time and space become one in front of me and it feels as though i am at the center of it alL .as if everything before me was put there deliberately to serve this purpose at this moment for me to understanD .this euphoric feeling intensifies and thoughts of grandiosity begin shooting intwo my mind at a pace that throws my world in a spiN .i know that it all cannot be true but my perception of reality becomes fogged by the sheer enjoyment of understanding the true meaning of everythinG .at about this point in time (or actually in “timelessness”, as this aspect has set in and i become trapped between reality and fantasy where time seemingly stops) i begin to see the purpose of this all and become aware that this is not about me, but rather about what I’m trying to bE .there is undoubtedly good and evil in the world and each is just as powerful as the otheR .i become obsessed with this struggle inside myself and am determined to out play the others set out to bring harm to the worlD .i am being tested to reveal my true character and define the type of man i am, compared to the person I believe myself to bE .this game continues on and my episode intensifies as I get lost in my mind and fantasy becomes reality where reality fails to answer the questions continuing to pile up in my heaD .i spend hours into days fighting against myself to understand what is happening and debating if the impossible is reaL .voices call to me, the world begins to pass by in harmony, emotions become blurred with desires, and my eyes become liarS .the very thought that i understand the system convinces myself I have thrown off the balance and this will inevitably be the reason my world collapses onto me, so i sit completely stilL .terrified to breath and mortified to think a thought that might be my lasT .it gets to the point where reality and fantasy become so similar and meshed that deciphering which is which becomes nearly impossiblE .I know there’s something not quite right going on but just enough makes sense that i continue on falling deeper and deeper into maniA .it becomes as if I am reading something that doesn’t look or seam quite right but am still able to understand the meaninG .i become amazed on how it works and push myself to the point that I lose where i started and where I am suppose to gO