Getting Through a Bad Day

It's very curious to me how little professional information there is on living with bipolar disorder.  That may be because chemical treatment was embraced so enthusiastically last century.  Also because psychiatrists are first M.D.s, and Western medicine is simply not holistic.  It embraces a very limited "science" which is constantly proven wrong (e.g. mice are not much like people, see today's NY Times). But I digress.

As that digression suggests, I'm writing on a good day.  Perhaps because of going off the Seroquel, and  perhaps because it's February, I am back into that peculiar schedule of good day/bad day.  Having exhausted the resources of Google, I've come up with a plan for tomorrow, which may well be a bad day made worse by this cold (4th day) and even worse by Tom going out of town all day.  If I don't leave the house I might not see another human face all day.  

The only useful idea I was reminded of as I researched managing bipolar was the idea of putting a certain scheduling and regularity in the day.  I knew this experientially, and am pleased that it's now recognized as a form of therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy (IPSRT).  Here is a quote from an article in Psych Central: 

Social rhythm focuses on developing and maintaining regular routines. Research has shown that “disturbances in circadian biology are associated with bipolar disorder,” but “there are social cues that can help entrain one’s underlying biological rhythms,” Dr. [Holly] Swartz said. Such social cues include keeping a consistent schedule of sleeping, eating and other daily activities.

Add to that getting dressed with shoes on and coming out of that dark room, which are things they make you do in psych wards.  So I have scheduled my day tomorrow.  Unless the weather is awful, I'll even leave the house to go to the library, a nice low-stress place where I might get to smile at someone.

The single most important thing on my schedule, though is . . . I know, you guessed:  my practice.  I have learned that unless I'm physically very ill and fatigued, I can do my morning spiritual practice.  Interestingly, that is the least depressed half-hour of a bad day.  I suppose that's because I'm focused on what I'm doing and not indulging in the dark thoughts or clinging to the pains and other unpleasant sensations.  

My practice has two parts, bodywork and sitting meditation, and I've spent many years learning how to do both of these in a way that works best for me.  I'll discuss what I do in future posts.  Here I'll say, my habit is to do it after my morning coffee but before breakfast.  It is very easy to form bad habits, and hard to form good ones, but a good habit has a lot of encouragement power.  It's like, I don't feel like it, but this is what I do.

And this . . .

. . . is what I do on a good day.  You are looking at the large mirror that covers one small wall in my bathroom.  You see the toilet reflected in it - see what I mean?  Those colorful stick-on Glitterpuff flowers are something I picked up on sale a while back (I sometimes get high, shopping) and sort of hid from Tom, as they looked garish when I got them home.  But then you find yourself in just the right mood one day.  (And if he's noticed them, he hasn't said anything yet.)  I must say, good day or bad, they make me smile.  Color therapy.  I'm serious about that.

Along the Healing Path

Tibetan body mandala

I feel I'd like to write about how I feel these last few days, without a UTI or a cyclical biochemical depression. Maybe this is a place spiritual practice can put some people in full-time. Calm, clear, balanced, without anxiety, focused, unhurried, just okay. It is at least pleasant to be alive, maybe quietly joyful.

Before I began serious daily practice, I was never in this state, unless it was in yoga class. I had far too much anxiety, anxiety about everything you could name; that's the nature of the stress syndrome in a traumatized child. My father had it from his service in WWII, if not before then, and passed it right down with moment-by-moment criticism and worse personal invasions.

What does meditation have to do with that? For one thing, you are brought face to face with yourself (an odd image). You can't handle anxiety until you listen to yourself, and know when it's there, and begin to see what gooses it up and to work with it. 

The other part of feeling good is, for me, being balanced, neither depressed nor manic, fire not too low, not too high....I don't know yet whether long difficult moodswings are the heavy furniture of my mind, nailed to the floor, since I'm not dead yet.
~~~~ next day:
I am enjoying a Deepak Chopra online program, and as I lay relaxing this afternoon, I remembered something I heard him say on the radio a long time ago. It didn't take long to find it in an online ad for his healing retreats:

Consider the example of multiple personality disorder. People suffering from this severe psychiatric illness aren’t affected only at the psychological level. When they shift from one personality to another, dramatic changes can occur in their bodies. For example, one personality might have high blood pressure, while another personality within the same person may not. One personality may have diabetes, while the other personalities test normal for insulin levels.

I know blood pressure is very responsive to emotion; it was the insulin claim that struck me then.  Now I understand better the intricacies of metabolism, and of energy, and am not so automatically skeptical, so the diabetes claim sounds reasonable.  I lay there and thought of myself as a healthy person without UTIs.

Meanwhile, the universe tried to help me today by having the Humana nurse call me just to figure out if there's a way to make me less expensive.  I talked with her about the UTIs, and she said, "Drink water."  And a little talk about how it keeps the system flushed.  I recently upped my water from 3 liters a day to 4, having this in mind, and I was glad to hear it again. I like to work on all possible angles.  As they say, Trust in God, but keep your camels tied."

Headache cures

A friend of mine I will call Tigger has a hard time with high and low moods, and with sleep. Over the years he has been tried on all sorts of "cocktails," mixes of medications. I remember recommending melatonin taken when you're ready for bed and propped up with a calming book; it works for me as long as I turn the light out on the second yawn (it's possible to override it). But it didn't work for him. Nothing did. He slept intermittently at best, and almost always woke up with a headache.

Recently, a doctor noted how low his blood pressure runs, 90/60, and recommended he increase his salt intake. I know from experience that BP that low makes you feel tired; when I had that, I got dizzy standing up, or just rolling over in bed. Tigger is trying this treatment, and reports that his headaches are diminished. He thinks it makes sense that the brain needs adequate blood flow to dream and refresh during the night.

Increasing salt is not for everyone, not for me, for instance, with kidney disease, and no one should do it without knowing how their BP runs, and monitoring the results. I'm not writing to recommend this treatment, but to point out how very individual we are, with our own unique set of sensitivities and needs.

And slso to note that "holistic health" is not just a catchphrase. We are intimately connected with ourselves, you might say. Every part of us affects every other part. The way to stay healthy is to know ourselves, our personal needs, and how we are affected by other people, weather, foods, exercise - everything. And it is true that no one else can know you as intimately as you can know yourself. That's why no one else can heal you, though there are many ways to provide comfort, nourishment, and encouragement.

There are various ways to study the self, including medical tests and keeping a daily health log (which Andrew Weil recommends). And there's meditation, the kind we call zazen, in which we simply sit with and enjoy our breathing, our sensations, and thoughts, paying attention to ourselves like loving parents. This has led me to the best treatment for my own headaches, since a kidney patient can safely take very few drugs - patience. This too will pass. I have learned that my headaches often (not always) just step in for a short visit, and then, like so many of our demons, move on.