Mental Health Stories

Last week I requested to be put back on anti depressants to help cope with my bi polar disorder and I’ll admit that doing so made me feel a little like a failure. No one wants to be on anti depressants, it’s a fun combination of accepting that your brain isn’t functioning correctly and you get social judgement as well. The huge swell of depression across the country has resulted not in an urgent plea to find out what’s making people of all ages, cultures and backgrounds to feel this way but has instead resulted in the view that people are “making it up”. The “doing it for attention” line gets used a lot, not simply in media but in day-to-day conversation. I even have some sympathy.

It’s a completely understandable viewpoint for someone who doesn’t have depression to think “Jeeze, just cheer up!” and I don’t want to mock people for having that totally natural standpoint. But I know that depression (in all it’s forms) is far more than feeling sad and needing to buck up. In fact, being bi polar means that sometimes I’m waaaaay too happy. My moods can swing up so far that I recently started laughing uncontrollably whilst parked in a car park, giddy with hysterics whilst part of my consciousness sat at the back of the theatre, trembling with confusion about what the hell was going on. I have days where (not unlike someone on recreational drugs) I will deign that there is a secret pattern to the universe which dictates that everything shall be fine. I will feel untouchable, not in that arrogant way to prove something to anyone, but genuinely comforted by my absolute belief that nothing bad can happen to me. I’ll spend large amounts of money, I’ll get into trouble with people and feel genuinely confused that they don’t also share this unique knowledge. My up swings are delicate creatures however and can become a low swing in no time flat.

Low swings are just what they sound like, a tumble into depression that’s very hard to explain sometimes. Whereas feeling sad about something can feel like a sharp pain, then an ache as you adjust to the emotion, I feel like my brain is jammed on that initial response. It’s almost as though I’m trapped in that initial feeling of misery and despair and my brain doesn’t understand how to even out the hormones causing that emotion. It doesn’t feel as though I’m sad, it feels as though being happy is physically impossible, like a lie that everyone has made up. Usually, I’m a happy, cheerful and laid back person but in the midst of a low swing I become aggressively depressed, determined that everything (including myself) is worthless and becoming rude to those who try to convince me otherwise. The worst part is that I often won’t realise this has happened because – in the moment – the reaction feels completely valid. I know that must sound ridiculous when I’m talking about such levels of misery but it really feels like I’m responding in a sensible, reasonable way. In fact, I respond to many comments that I’m NOT acting in a responsible way in the same way you would if someone said you were acting insane for no reason that you could see. It’s challenging for myself and particularly those I love, especially during low points when I’m not around people.

I’d been in an especially bad place a year ago in terms of my mood swings and found that prescribed antidepressants were helpful in stabilising me. This grounded me enough to move forwards with my life and within 6 months I was off them again with no ill effects. The bi polar disorder never went away but I felt as though I could keep on top of it. Recently I’ve been getting down again and have been forced to ask for that stabiliser again. Admitting you need help, especially for the second time, is tough but if this experience is half as positive as the last and ends with me feeling that I can manage day-to-day once more then I’ll know that I wasn’t admitting defeat, just getting back on the raft that will take me to the shore.

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