Care Package.

If I had the money, and I heard about a girl who had recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I'd send her a care package with some of these items that have helped or could help me.

• Hand cream (lithium dries out my hands terribly)
• Bath and Body Works Mini Candles, which are so cute (not necessarily to burn but to smell when she needs a calming distraction)
• Sugar Free cinnamon mints--another great distraction. Ice Breakers are best but hard to find)
• Bubble bath
• Irresistibly lovely notebook and pen
• Related book such as An Unquiet Mind
• Comfortable pajamas or robe
• Hair ties (for when everything is in the way)
• Simple coloring books
• Scraps of fabric in various textures
• A handful of tiny bells
• A blanket in her favorite color
• $10 card to Michaels to start a little craft
• Bracelet or necklace that makes soothing sounds or has soothing textures
• Pacifica roll-on perfume

Most of these would distract and soothe, resetting the brain a little. That's my experience, anyway.

Terms: My Mania.

Bipolar disorder seems to affect people in different ways that may not be clear. At first, I had trouble matching my experience with the terms for symptoms.

Sometimes, my thoughts turn joyful or terrifying, either way running over me, over and over, until I am fragile and exhausted. I can quickly forget what I was pondering, and other ideas push to get through. But I didn't call that "racing thoughts."

Sometimes, pouring out some of these thoughts by talking to someone for a long time, jumping among subjects, leaving ideas incomplete, and generally confusing the listener can give me some relief. Over the phone and in person, I sometimes feel desperate to keep the conversation going as if I will lose the person if I let the words end. But I didn't see that as "pressured speech."

There's also risky and impulsive behaviors. I took risks growing up, but that just seemed like teenager stuff. After Oliver was born, I began shopping online, mostly for work clothes. More and more and more. It made me happy except for the bit of guilt that squeezed into my throat and chest. It was definitely risky and impulsive even though I wasn't buying cars or having affairs.

All these are still with me sometimes in various forms, though the medication sands down the edges. But I'm glad to have names for my symptoms. I know more about who I am.

My Flaws.

Flaws are inevitable, but recognizing them can give us awareness of and power over our faults. We can learn when to be extra careful. I think I'm aware of most of my flaws, but I'm sure others could add to the list.

• I can be self-absorbed. I'm a decent listener, but I'm often talking about myself or trying to get insight about myself from someone else. I'm deeply reflective on my own experience, and I"m always trying to learn new ways to take care of myself and handle my disease.
• I have trouble pronouncing words, sometimes even when the words are familiar.
• I can appear cold, especially if I'm using a persona as a shield.
• I can be cold and avoidant if I'm hurt to trying to work out a problem.
• I can be a bad friend. I can disappear for years with no explanations--I may not even know why. I sometimes feel ill-equipped to bond with and help or encourage another person.
• I have a tendency to be mean. I've worked hard on this as Josh could tell you. Of course, this mostly comes from fear.
• I don't cook. I got into cooking a few things for a while, but it's not a talent of mine.
• I can be a terrible house guest. I'm not very helpful because I feel totally lost in other people's houses, especially in their kitchens. I also may disappear suddenly and nap or lie down in a dark room when I get overwhelmed.
• I can be obsessive. I'm actually always obsessive; the object just changes. Luckily, my recent obsessive have been healthy (swimming) or at least not especially unhealthy. I will research the object and talktalktalk about it. 
• I'm susceptible to extremely rare health problems like HELLP syndrome. I also just have a pathetic immune system. 
• I can be jealous. This was much more of a problem before I began therapy and medication. I can also be possessive, but I think that can be positive in some ways.
• I can be insecure or clingy. The clingy part isn't necessarily related to insecurity. I can be highly affectionate. But yes, I have a hard time believing that a person loves and values me, so I need frequent reassurance (which is better than the constant need I had before my diagnosis). 
• I have a slightly shattered sense of self. After many terrible experiences, I still crawl around looking for who I am. I seek reminders--in my apartment, in my clothes and books, and in the people who love me most. I need people, as Madeleine L'Engle said, to "name me." This is related to the self-absorption or to what a kind teacher once called introspection. 

And oh, there are more!

Signs of Stability.

Sometimes, I'm not sure if I'm seeing myself clearly, so I asked Josh for a little help with this. When I'm stable,

• I laugh. Full-bodied. Josh calls my laughter "jolly."
• I read. Reading helps me feel healthy, and when I'm healthy, I'm more able to read. Reading defines me, so if I'm not reading well, I feel almost fraudulent in all I do. But when I'm well (a bit beyond stable), I can devour books and store up their best words in my composition books and their joy of words in my heart.
• I write. I write a lot when I'm hypomanic too, but when I'm stable, I do a lot of scribbling, but it isn't frantic. And I tend to blog regularly.
• I can watch scary movies! Up until a couple of years ago, scary movies wrecked me. Now, they don't haunt me afterward, so I can enjoy them--sometimes even by myself.
• I feel more secure (or less insecure) in my closest relationships. I'm better able to read situations and ask for what I need.
• According to Josh, I seek out what makes me happy. I wear more makeup and have fun with it. I watch movies by myself--no need to wait for someone else to be interested. I have fun getting dressed. I play with stickers. I seek the people who make me laugh.

Ready for the Cycle.

I'd love to know how to preapre for the mood bycle when it returns. Right now, I seem to be on a good cocktail of medications. But a couple of weeks ago, I felt myself approaching hypomania.

I was experience increased need to be alone with my somewhat overwhelming thoughts. I was waking early and in the night. I was seeing things at the edge of my vision. My obsessive nature was switched on (this time, for a movie), and I felt a low buzz in my chest--something I could call excitement--but it had no apparent object and made me feel a little sick.

I've not experienced mania in a long time, and I don't think I've been fully hypomanic since I became stable several months ago. So maybe what I've experienced has been medicated hypomania or even medicated mania--the parts that will get past the meds, the parts I will still live with. I think I can learn to deal with that.

I need to learn to recognize it and work through it. Walking in silence on a treadmil lets me invite all my thoughts to come at me, and I can deal with them in a controlled space. I know I have to be careful about sleep. I want to know what to expect and accept and how to be ready.

I Love Myself For...

I should love myself all the time by staying healthy, being gentle, and being kind. I probably don't do this as I should. But sometimes, I do something that affects my near-future self, and I'm amazed. Here are some examples.

I love myself for

• Spreading tiny heart-shaped confetti in a future journal. I just found it, having forgotten all about it.
• Writing down where and how I got a journal, especially when it was a gift or I bought it while traveling.
• Putting a new box of Puffs on my nightstand.
• Placing my Cinderella doll at eye level on the bookshelf by my bed.
• Collecting great pens when I'm able.
• Reading some 560 books so far (not counting adolescent series). I'm sure they have shaped and changed me.
• Building a great relationship with my mom. 
• Going on a Friday breakfast date with Josh.
• Every poem and story I've written. Each one of them means progress.
• Ending up with Josh. 
• Getting season theatre tickets--I always have a show to look forward to.
• Getting specialists and therapists on Oliver's health team.
• Breastfeeding for 13 months.
• Taking my meds.
• Going to therapy regularly.
• Restarting and keeping up with my blogs.

Full of Stories.

I think about stories in two ways: short stories I could write or read, and stories that grow out of life, of significant memories that I spin for someone (often more than once).

Since my mind began to heal with medication and therapy, I began to get ideas--a plot thought, a title, a bit of dialogue, and most often, a first line. I write them on the end papers of my journals. I used to copy them onto colorful pieces of cardstock. I can't see very far beyond the snippet there, but I feel the charge.

I've never gotten ideas this way before the last 18 months or so. I've usually felt like a dead end because I wrote well but lacked stories to write, so what good did it do? Now, though, they are mostly below the surface, but they are in me. I envied people or characters who were full of stories (such as Jo March), but I think that I may be too.

I've certainly learned that I'm full of personal stories. Some have become essays. Several could become a memoir. For now, I practice the telling. Sometimes, I retell a story to see if I can keep it interesting enough. But I know I'll always have others, story after story.