I had a plan—a very structured plan with themes, word counts, and content calendars. I knew what I was going to write about. I had the answers. Until I didn’t.
Sometimes, you have to set it all aside and let the words flow. I’ve been exploring a specific theme in therapy. Who am I without the labels? Who am I without the structure? Who am I underneath the veneers of expectations (of myself as much as others)? Who the fuck am I? Even as I sit writing these words, I find myself stuck, unable to take a full breath. I used to unleash myself on the paper and make it dance. Where did this go? I wouldn’t say I have lost myself. Instead, there’s been a gradual process of disappearing under layers and layers of masks I had to wear to play the role of the person others needed me to be. The caretaker. The helper. The teacher. The nurturer. The overachiever. The self-sacrificing stoic. But who was I? I started to think I was none of those things. I buried my true self under years of conditioning, wounding, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. I was going through the motions of life, lost, anxious, and dissatisfied, with no real understanding of why I was doing what I was doing. My diagnosis was an undeniable turning point. Months of self-exploration and healing followed. To find myself again, I would have to strip away everything I was not. I would have to peel layer after layer of masks and facades, wounding and conditioning, to rediscover who I was at the core before the world had changed me. Some patterns and behaviors I developed over time started as a form of self-protection and safety. The need to constantly be busy, to please everyone, to have everything be perfect and in control. I learned these were trauma responses to times in my childhood when I had felt responsible for keeping the balance. For one, I grew up with an absent father who wanted to be more of a friend than a father figure. His absence and inability to reciprocate love authentically left the child in me feeling unlovable and unworthy. I would carry this wound into adulthood, constantly searching for someone or something to fill the space his absence had created. When you know where your patterns and behaviors stem from, the origin of your negative or limiting beliefs (about love, yourself, and your worth), then you start to heal. As any therapist will tell you, we cannot heal what is hidden. Therapy is uncomfortable. Exposing my deepest wounds is both uncomfortable and liberating. It was what I needed to make peace with my past. And to start finding my way back to myself. The person I am at the core has never changed. They have just been buried underneath the world's demands, waiting to be found again. On this journey back to myself, I hope I will let myself be seen… create things that bring me joy… cultivate my gifts and share them with others… follow my heart and my passions… come home to me. I need only connect with that deepest part of myself to uncover the answers I’ve been seeking. They have always been there. I just lost myself for a while, and that’s okay. We all do.
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Life can be overwhelming.
The last three years have been marked by uncertainty and constant upheaval. And its effects are impacting our happiness, health, education, work, and even the economy. I am a rather anxious person. I tend to ruminate and wallow in worries, even more so when the world around me seems to be going up in flames. For the past four years, I’ve been going to a therapist specializing in core processes psychotherapy. Core Process Psychotherapy is based on the principles of Buddhist psychology and mindfulness meditation blended with ‘Western’ psychology. It is a holistic approach to therapy that aims to help individuals explore and understand the habitual patterns, beliefs, and emotions that underlie their psychological and emotional difficulties. At the core of this therapy is the belief that each person has an innate capacity for healing and growth. Through mindfulness and creating a safe, non-judgmental space, my therapist helps me develop a more compassionate and accepting relationship with myself, leading to greater self-awareness, self-acceptance, and a deeper connection with others. Needless to say, it took her a long time to get me to drop into my body and learn to be mindful. Life is often frantic and exhausting, affecting our happiness, health, work, and relationships. The compulsion to seek certainty in an uncertain world can feed worry and anxiety and even trigger compulsive behaviors. The impact of global events on mental health is profound, irrespective of direct or indirect connections to the crisis. Mindfulness-based therapies are increasingly recognized for supporting mental health and improving physical well-being. Mindfulness techniques empower individuals to see the world differently, fostering growth, resilience, and a compassionate, fulfilled life. Mindfulness and emotional intelligence work hand in hand, providing a buffer against destabilizing thoughts or events. By checking in with our thoughts and feelings, we can respond with greater awareness, preventing internalizing negative emotions. Mindfulness is not just about coping; it's a transformative practice that enhances happiness, reduces stress, and promotes creativity. Mindfulness means choosing happiness, reducing stress, improving focus, and increasing creativity. It is a psychological, cognitive, and physical transformation that gives a new perspective on events and responses. Instead of being reactive, mindfulness creates a space to ask, "How do I want to act?" and "How do I want to live?" Uncertainty and change are inevitable, yet integrating mindfulness offers a powerful coping strategy. Recognize the normalcy of uncertainty and reframe thinking to live without constant dread. Temporal integration, as coined by Daniel Siegel, allows thoughts of certainty and uncertainty to coexist harmoniously. Understanding the nature of control and accepting what is within our control is crucial for our well-being. For example, living in a conflict zone can put us in a position without agency. We aren’t in as much control as we think, even within our bodies. Completely grasping the extent of our lack of control can be unsettling and stressful as it opens the door to unwelcome events. Like uncertainty, lack of control is the nature of things. It reminds me of this manifesto by Tiny Buddha on 15 things we can’t control and what we can control instead, particularly this part: “You can’t control: There’s suffering in the world. You can control: Whether you contribute to it or help alleviate it. Some specific things you can do: Work toward healing your pain (since hurt people hurt people). Speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves. When you see someone hurting, offer your non-judgmental presence and ask how you can help. Commit small acts of kindness every day. Lastly, donate your time, money, or resources to causes you’re passionate about.” Even in seemingly uncontrollable situations, find small aspects to control, fostering a sense of agency and positively impacting mental health. Helping others and contributing to social causes can provide a sense of influence and purpose. By focusing on what you can contribute, feelings of helplessness can transform into empowerment. Individuals facing challenges have historically demonstrated humility, perseverance, flexibility, resourcefulness, commitment, and compassion. Exploring narratives of people dealing with similar adversities can provide strength and courage, emphasizing our shared humanity. Recognizing the challenges endured by individuals in history and the present globally allows us to feel a shared connection and derive strength from a common sense of humanity. Resilience practices grounded in inner flexibility, endurance, and strength are essential to navigate uncertain times. Recognize the stability within yourself, fueled by hope, self-efficacy, and gratitude. Prioritize sleep, nutrition, exercise, and self-care, fostering mental and emotional health. In a volatile world, extend compassion and understanding to yourself and others experiencing fear and nervousness. Avoid self-judgment, acknowledge feelings, and seek healthy ways to soothe the mind. If uncertainty overwhelms you, reach out for support, ensuring mental and emotional well-being. In the meantime, here are some tips I’ve picked up along the way: #1 Practice Self-Compassion Start by checking in with yourself as you would with a friend. Acknowledge and embrace your feelings, recognizing that emotions are temporary. Be kind to yourself, offering the same compassion you would to a friend. Acknowledge the common humanity that binds us all. #2 Stay in the Present When overwhelmed, focus on the present moment and your surroundings. Embrace the transient nature of emotions and practice riding the waves rather than resisting them. Ground yourself by engaging your five senses. #3 Separate What You Can and Cannot Control Embrace the uncertainty beyond your control, freeing mental energy to focus on actionable aspects. Address worries individually, discerning their controllability, and approach each concern more effectively. #4 Notice and Manage Your Worried Thoughts Identify worrisome thoughts and redirect focus toward constructive ones. Create a designated "worry period," articulate worries, examine facts, and formulate alternative, rational thoughts. #5 Create Boundaries to Protect Your Peace Establish boundaries around time, conversations, and personal space. Prioritize meaningful connections, identify anxiety-inducing topics, and create a self-care space. Balance alone time with social interaction. #6 Pay Attention to Joy Acknowledge positive moments and practice gratitude daily through meditation, journaling, and acts of kindness. Prioritize self-care as a vital necessity, recognizing its role in resilience and improved well-being. Discover more mindfulness exercises on Positive Psychology. When I started therapy, I half-heartedly committed to integrating mindfulness into our lives, acknowledging that small, consistent efforts can yield significant benefits. Five years later, I know that it can and does make a difference. We can create a nurturing and balanced environment, navigating life's challenges with strength and grace. Global events, particularly those marked by conflict and crisis, profoundly impact us, whoever and wherever we are. The mental health repercussions of living through such times are significant, affecting not only those directly involved but also those indirectly connected to the crisis. In the context of heightened regional tension, it is crucial to acknowledge the diverse range of emotions and challenges faced by individuals with bipolar disorder and other mental health diagnoses.
Witnessing a crisis unfold triggers a spectrum of responses, each person navigating their unique emotional landscape. Feelings of grief, depression, fear, anxiety, and guilt are common, whether one has direct ties to the conflict or is simply an observer. The trauma of living through a global crisis can compound other forms of trauma, such as intergenerational, historical, or racial trauma, amplifying the complexity of emotional experiences. In the digital age, where information is disseminated rapidly, it becomes challenging to escape the constant stream of images, videos, and news coverage during global tension. While valuable for connection, social media platforms can also expose individuals to misinformation, hostile arguments, and unexpected graphic content. Navigating this information overload becomes crucial for maintaining mental well-being. In the face of unprecedented challenges, the value of self-care for resilience becomes more evident than ever. The concept of self-care emerges as a lifeline, offering a means to find equilibrium amid chaos. This blog post explores practical self-care strategies specifically tailored to individuals with bipolar disorder and other mental health diagnoses and those supporting them. #1 Practice Self-Compassion Begin by checking in with yourself as you would with a friend. Embrace and acknowledge your feelings, recognizing that each emotion is temporary, no matter how intense. Extend kindness to yourself, nurturing your inner strength and resilience. Treating yourself with the same compassion you offer a friend makes you better equipped to support others. Recognizing our shared humanity in these challenging times fosters a sense of connection and understanding. #2 Stay in the Present In moments of overwhelming emotions, focus on the present and your immediate surroundings. Embrace the analogy of emotions as waves—rising, peaking, and gradually receding. Rather than resisting or succumbing to emotions, practice riding them. Ground yourself by engaging your five senses, fostering a connection with the present moment. #3 Separate What You Can and CanNot Control Uncertainty often breeds anxiety, as the mind craves certainty and safety. Acknowledge the intangibility of specific circumstances and redirect mental energy toward what lies within your control. Address worries individually, discerning their controllability and approaching each concern effectively. This shift in focus aids in managing concerns without being overwhelmed by an uncertain future. #4 Notice and Manage Your Worried Thoughts During stress, the brain's natural response heightens awareness of potential risks, triggering the "fight or flight" reaction. Identifying worrisome thoughts and redirecting focus toward constructive alternatives can alleviate this stress response. Creating a designated "worry period," articulating worries, examining the facts, and formulating rational thoughts contribute to a more balanced perspective. #5 Create Boundaries to Protect Your Peace Consider boundaries around protecting your time, conversations, and personal space. Reflect on meaningful activities that help you rest and recharge, identify communication limits, and create a self-care space in your living environment. #6 Pay Attention to Joy Acknowledging positive moments during heightened stress can be challenging, yet focusing on joy and gratitude practices can uplift your mood. Incorporate the "5-3-1 Practice" into your daily routine, dedicating 5 minutes to meditation, expressing gratitude to 3 things, and performing 1 act of kindness. In today's demanding and unpredictable world, prioritizing self-care is not a luxury but a vital necessity. As mental health advocates, acknowledging the interconnectedness of our well-being allows us to navigate life's challenges with strength and grace. Small, consistent efforts toward self-care yield significant benefits, fostering a nurturing and balanced environment for ourselves and our loved ones. In practicing self-compassion, we embark on a journey toward increased resilience, improved mental and physical health, and a more fulfilling life. Together, let us commit to integrating self-care into our daily routines, recognizing its transformative power in navigating turbulent times. Some wounds heal in plain sight. But no one can see the scars from years of abuse, bullying, abandonment, wars, car bombs, and explosions.
Trauma is a situation we all know too well. Yet, it is a complex and evolving concept. In the realm of American psychiatric diagnosis, it's presently defined by the DSM-5 as an experience involving "actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence," whether as a victim or witness. The term 'trauma' is multifaceted. It can denote a physical injury, an experience, or an emotional response to a harrowing event. Its origins trace back to the Greek word "wound," a term still used in the context of physical injury in medical settings. The notion of trauma as psychological damage only surfaced in the late 1880s. In 1889, French psychologist Pierre Janet published "L’automatisme psychologique," marking the first scientific account of traumatic stress. This work would later be mentioned in Sigmund Freud's 1893 paper on hysteria, laying the foundation for the study of trauma. Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) was officially recognized in veterans and disaster responders, including those who encountered the tragic Jonestown Massacre in 1978. It was added to the DSM-III in 1980. Over the subsequent 14 years, revisions to the DSM shifted the focus from the objective severity of an event to the patient's level of distress. The disorder's definition also expanded to include not only those who experienced trauma but also those who witnessed it or heard about it. By the 1990s, terms such as "cultural trauma," "collective trauma," "historical trauma," and "intergenerational trauma" began to emerge, often in the context of atrocities like genocide, enslavement, and war. Trauma wields a profound influence over our lives. Beyond its immediate physical and emotional impacts, it can fundamentally shape our self-perception and worldview. But here's a crucial truth: Trauma does not define you. You are not your trauma. Broken things do not need to remain broken. Our brain is wired for change; that change does not have to be negative. So we can create positive change despite terrible events like explosions, collapsing economies, and pandemics. It is called post-traumatic growth. Brokenness can be a starting point of beauty. The experiences that hurt and caused you pain don’t have the power to define you. They may have altered you, transformed you, but they don't hold the ability to label your beautiful, brilliant soul, which harbors a universe as vast as the starry expanse in the night sky. What defines you is your resilience and capacity to endure even the most excruciating experiences and emerge stronger. You possess the courage many only dream of—a determination to grow wings when life attempts to take yours away. You are made of remarkable, extraordinary, and unimaginable qualities, and your trauma cannot deceive you into believing it's the only aspect of your identity that matters. The person you were before the storms of life arrived may be gone, but remnants of them remain. Your past and wounds have sculpted a new you—a more resilient, courageous, and improved version. You are whole, a stronger and braver version of yourself in every conceivable way. Perhaps, deep down, we're not as fragile as we think. As we change, we learn. In moments of adversity, we find growth opportunities. When we set out to heal our own lives, we discover newfound resilience, equipping us to mend our personal challenges and the world's. With this journey, we grow wise and whole. We become stronger not only for ourselves but for those around us. We strip away the layers of pretense, creating connections that are more authentic than ever before. We mend the brokenness with compassion and extend kindness to others and ourselves. We can turn our brokenness into beauty and growth. We are not our traumas. I have anxiety. I bury myself in work and after-work activities to cope. I've organized and reorganized everything in my physical and digital space countless times to tame and distract.
This is even more exacerbated by the fear, trauma, and terror that most of the region is currently experiencing. I scroll from website to website, feed to feed, my eyes forever imprinted with unspeakable horrors while every cell in my body breaks in pain. So, I bury myself in work. I credit my therapist for teaching me to explore stillness. To sit with it and listen. To feel my feels. To let the sadness wash over. To let anger out. To allow disgust to grip my gut. Because it needs to be felt. Not stored, or buried, or suppressed, or ignored. It needs to be. My anxiety wasn't just a nuisance; it held significance, and understanding it could eventually help me ease that nagging anxiety for the long term. In today's fast-paced world, emotional challenges lurk around every corner. The relentless pressure to succeed, the need to "keep up," the fear of missing out, and the quest for fulfilling relationships and job satisfaction can stir up a whirlwind of emotions. Deep down, we all hold a treasure trove of emotions. Emotions such as sadness, fear, anger, joy, excitement, sexual excitement, and disgust are hardwired into our brains and bodies for a valid reason – they equip us to survive and thrive. However, modern society offers no safe space to openly explore and express our emotions. This glaring omission leaves a mark on us and our well-being. Ironically, what society predominantly teaches us isn't how to engage with our emotions but how to suppress and evade them. We've become quite adept at these maneuvers: Whether through alcohol, prescription medications, or endless screen time, we've perfected numerous ways to evade our feelings. And when we do acknowledge them, we often swat them away with mantras ingrained in us since childhood – "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," "Get a grip," "Suck it up." However, suppressing emotions is detrimental to our mental and physical health. It's akin to stepping on the gas and the brakes of our car simultaneously, creating an internal pressure cooker. Our society conveys explicit and subtle messages encouraging us to dismiss, invalidate, bury, and suppress our emotions – but this approach is misguided. When we repress our emotions and stay stuck in our heads, we squander precious energy that could be channeled toward leading more fulfilling lives. Conditions like anxiety, depression, and other diagnoses, such as PTSD and personality disorders, often stem from the suppression of emotions. In response to overwhelming emotional pain, our minds and bodies develop various coping strategies, and these defenses and symptoms often intersect. What's imperative is learning to validate our emotions and discern the most effective ways to harness them. Personally, when I discovered that my anxiety concealed deeper emotions like fear, sadness, excitement, and joy, it was a game-changer. Recognizing and addressing these underlying emotions significantly reduced my anxiety. For instance, when I felt "overlooked" or mistreated by someone, I could process my anger and transform it into assertiveness. But I also had the choice to process my anger and decide not to react. If you've ever battled depression or anxiety, you might instinctively shield yourself from the discomfort of your sadness, anger, or fear. Consciously or not, you may believe that avoiding these "negative" emotions can prevent the resurgence of depression or anxiety. Yet, treating your emotions as threats and systematically evading them can be counterproductive. Rather than facing your sadness or anger, you end up wrestling with an amorphous "bad feeling" that feels overwhelming and unending. Imagine that you're on board with embracing your emotions and recognizing their worth. In the early stages, when you attempt to connect with emotions you've long avoided, your body resists, and the intensity may feel daunting. That's when patience becomes your ally. By breathing through it and using grounding techniques, your body can learn that tolerating these intense emotions is okay. Over time, when emotions surface, you can navigate through them with the understanding that these feelings are transient and, ultimately, liberating. Rather than forcefully suppressing your emotions as they emerge, can you gently welcome them and sit with them? Acknowledging your feelings will not pave the way to depression or anxiety. With a sense of safety and grounding, confronting your emotions leads to clarity and peace. Emotions are an integral part of our existence. They can't be stopped or prevented. Our power lies in the choice of how we respond to these emotions. This choice, repeated multiple times each day, holds immense significance. In my work to improve my mental health, I often observe that I – much like most – tend to evade painful or conflicting emotions because that's the societal lesson. Yet, for the mind to heal, we must confront the feelings intertwined with our stories – and these emotions reside within our bodies. By understanding the automatic nature of emotions and discovering the core emotions concealed beneath our anxiety, we're better equipped to function and feel more fulfilled. The past few weeks have not been kind to us. It seems almost impossible to turn on the news or scroll through social media without encountering a disturbing image.
In Lebanon, we recognize the sounds of the war. We know the sound of a jet or a missile because we learned to recognize them, and we know how to cope. Over the past four decades, Lebanon has weathered a 15-year civil war, an Israeli occupation in the south, the July 2006 war with Israel, a series of bombings and assassinations, the more recent Beirut blast, and an ongoing economic crisis. As revealed by a recent study, these relentless challenges have left millions of Lebanese at a heightened risk of developing post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). However, in a region marked by persistent instability, there's rarely a "post" to the trauma; the specter of war remains ever-present. When conflict erupts in neighboring regions, fear permeates Lebanon. The silent knowledge of impending war hangs in the air, palpable to all. The atmosphere is charged with tension, and the collective anxiety is undeniable. It's a fear that lingers, impacting daily life and mental well-being. I wake up terrified that something significant happened while I was sleeping. When I wake up, I first get to my phone to check the news. Freedom and safety are sacred, something often taken for granted in more stable regions. The word "trauma," tracing its origins to the Greek language, is inherently linked to the concept of a "wound." Whether consciously acknowledged or not, our experiences of being wounded and the coping mechanisms we employ play a significant role in shaping our behavior, influencing our social interactions, and guiding our perspectives on the world. These experiences can even impact our capacity for rational thinking in matters of utmost significance. By this definition, trauma is the internal response that individuals undergo due to challenging or painful life events; it is distinct from the events themselves. Gabor Mate succinctly formulates this concept by stating, “Trauma is not about what happens to you but rather about what transpires within you.” I lay awake wondering: In war, do our minds find peace? In times of impending conflict, we have a choice in how we respond. We can freeze in fear or choose to grow despite the uncertainty. Many choose the latter, driven by a sense of responsibility and the desire to improve their well-being and support others. The resilience of the human spirit shines through the darkest moments. Amid impending war, the battle within rages on. It's a silent struggle that takes its toll on mental health. Yet, the resilience of the human spirit, the power of choice, and the pursuit of growth offer hope in the darkness. Strength is cultivated through facing adversity head-on and emerging stronger on the other side. No one can plot somebody else’s healing course because that’s not how healing works. There are no predefined road maps for the unique journey each of us must take. We can, however, outline the terrain, describe it, become familiar with it, and ready ourselves to meet its challenges. Through this process, we can learn the inherent principles that guide the path to healing and identify the attitudes and qualities it awakens and responds to within us. As we navigate these turbulent times, we must recognize the strength and resilience that can emerge from within. We can't control external circumstances, but we can choose how we respond and support one another in the ongoing battle for peace within. I took a break.
I haven’t written since March. Life took an odd turn. I went to more funerals than I care to remember. I made more complicated decisions than I ever wished I had to take. I witnessed more layoffs than I am capable of handling. I fought back more tears than I care to count. Grief has an odd way of expressing itself, even more so when you’re diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It is one of those emotions that has a life of its own. It carries every feeling within it; sometimes, there’s no way to discern it. Even worse, grief is as much physical as it is emotional. You feel heartbroken like there is a hole punched in your chest. You feel heavy, like there’s a giant weight on your shoulders. You feel like your legs are weak and shaking from trying to stand after someone pulls the ground from underneath you. It’s hard to breathe because the wind has knocked you out. The first couple of months, I just tried to get by. I did the motions. I nodded and shook my head at the appropriate times, ensuring I showed up each day and did the work. I became more productive than usual. I was like a machine. In the darkest moments, I convinced myself that if I kept going and moving forward, I would not have to feel the pain I carried in my heart. My therapist held space for me and kept asking me what I needed. But I didn’t know what I needed. It was only months later that things started to change. Slowly, very slowly, I learned to slow down. Just showing up, even if it meant showing up broken. It worked magic. I danced on top of 2,000-year-old ruins, and a sense of trust and groundedness emerged between all the crying and cringing. And occasionally even joy. I re-established contact with myself by slowing down, which helped me process my feelings while moving, breathing, sensing, rooting. I've learned a few things, one of which is that everything takes time. The right amount of time. And the right moment in time. We can’t control what happens, but we decide how to respond. Grieving or any other emotional process is held inside a very personal timeline. My typical strategies, which had been effective in some prior situations, were no longer effective. My gut advised me to have patience with myself, let things happen naturally, and let time work its magic. I feel more grounded, more rooted. I am vulnerable yet able to access power from my rootedness. Gentleness, slowing down, and emotional transparency are priceless gifts. We all struggle. Whether it is visible or hidden, acknowledging this struggle grows compassion for ourselves and for others. When we slow down, we make space for this acknowledgment: we make space for the subtle inner voice of wisdom to teach us. We make space for growing, compassion, and healing. I learned along the way that grief is not something you heal from. When you lose someone or something (a relationship, a job, a house.), you carry that around with you forever, and it becomes a part of you. Grief can mold itself into something beautiful that reminds you of your strength and capacity to love and be loved. I've learned to trust the cycles of life. Just as the universe follows its rhythms, so does our heart. There are moments of stillness where the world seems to stand still, and grief consumes us. But, like the sun that always rises, there is a natural ebb and flow to our emotions. Even in the darkest of nights, dawn is inevitable. Trusting in these cycles can provide solace, reminding us that even in our most profound moments of grief, healing and hope are never out of reach. I learned to adjust to a new life when I was first diagnosed. I could deal with the drowsiness and weight gain, but the stifling of creativity due to medications was unbearable.
Many worry that medications to treat mental illness will drain their creative juices, leaving them unable to create or perform as they once did. I struggled with that for a long time. Before my diagnosis and the ensuing changes, I never left the house without a pen, a notebook, and a camera. But the lack of focus, time, and inspiration, the things I once considered integral to who I was, became little more than a passing thought on most days. However, after finding a medication that works for me, a regular therapy regimen, and personal development, my love of art and creation began to come back. Without the debilitating exhaustion caused by depressive episodes and the whiplash-inducing speed with which I veer from topic to topic while hypomanic, I can create much more consistently. Why do we occasionally wish for a little bit of heartbreak or extra sadness? There are plenty of modern and historical cultural references to feed the “tortured artist” trope. So many accomplished artists led lives shrouded in despair: Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse, to name just a few. It is not, however, a modern invention. The phrase “poète maudit” means accursed poet and is associated with writers living “outside society,” often resulting in early death. It was popularized in the 1800s. Vincent Van Gogh was known for his attempts to poison himself by eating paint and drinking turpentine. Virginia Woolf filled her overcoat pockets with stones and walked into the River Ouse. Popular science has elaborated on this correlation: there are countless articles, and even books, about the relationship between mental illness and creativity. Some coined it the “eccentricity effect.” The pressure to appear interesting to be taken seriously as an artist or even a person can overwhelm anyone attempting to form a sense of identity. In my experience, this is worse when recovering from mental illness. While my peers were developing a constructive sense of self in my teen years, I struggled to stay alive. There is a phenomenon known as “identity moratorium,” where an adolescent in crisis cannot commit to roles or values that form an identity, which was true for me. When entering treatment, I found that I wrapped so much of my sense of self in self-destruction and mental illness that I did not know who I was or could become. It took multiple years of therapy to overcome, and it is a thought that still plagues me during challenging times. In therapy, I now discuss how to do both “good” and “right.” We often do good things that make us feel better and comfort us, yet they can be and feel wrong. Things at this intersection can include anything that goes against one’s morals. For me, this has included emotionally damaging relationships and substance abuse. Art can be good and right, good and wrong, or immoral and harmful. Art therapy exists for a reason, and the simple act of creation can be transformative. Unfortunately, countless artists, myself included, take this to an unhealthy extent, torturing themselves for art because the best art makes you feel something. It is often easier to put pain on paper than joy. It is unnecessary to feel this pain to create something meaningful, and the world (and art) would be better off if more people believed that happy people can still make eloquent, even sad, art. A positive mood can enhance creativity. In my experience, happiness (or even contentedness) and creation can and do overlap. When I think of the years I lost to mental illness, I mourn the person I could have been. A person who was more able to write endlessly and creatively rather than lay in bed for days. A person unafraid to try new art (I’ve always wanted to try cello and violin). A person with more harnessable energy, rather than the energy that seems only to channel itself into destruction. In periods of stability, I am infinitely more able to create. Yet, I wonder how my art could have grown if I had had the consistency that untreated bipolar disorder has stolen from me. I could've avoided so much pain and suffering if I had been more confident that recovery was the right direction. My greatest fear about this discussion is that the trope of the tortured artist leads to the creation of real tortured artists, as it has become so deeply ingrained in popular discourse that artists just aren’t happy. If they are happy, they’re not just happy. They’re eccentric; there’s no room to be a regular, well-adjusted person and an artist. I’m not saying that artists should attempt to be forced into happiness. They should be able to do so and still be taken seriously as artists. How about you? How do you balance madness and creativity? Join the discussion in the community. I take a lot of comfort in watching the sun rise and set every day.
It reminds me that life is cyclical. That all of existence is in a constant state of transition. That this moment, the way things are as we see them, everything will change and has already changed. Everything is constantly changing. Every person. Every object. Every thought. Every concept. Every hope. Every emotion. Every belief. All of these will pass. Without this constant state of transition, nothing could ever become. You could never see the sun without the transition from night to day. Things must change. I learned to remind myself that the darkest state of mind will pass. That any emotional pain exists because we resist this ever-changing nature of things. So, despite my best attempts at holding on to them, I suffer when things change. If we define ourselves by our present looks, we will suffer as our body ages and grows weary. Physical change is inevitable and will happen to all of us if we’re lucky. Our current looks will soon pass. If we believe our job defines us, we’re setting ourselves up for pain when the economy crumbles, technology changes or our career is cut short. Nothing lasts forever. If we believe our social groups define the person we are, the talents we have, the hobbies we enjoy, the clothes we wear, or the beliefs we hold, then we must realize that these, too, will pass. When we're aware of the impermanent nature of things, it grounds us in the present. It makes us appreciate what we have right here, right now. It erases our expectations for the future. We realize that this moment shall pass. Beautiful things will happen. Enjoy them, but they too shall pass, and that’s ok because that is the nature of everything. Understanding this allows you to enjoy things even more because you know they are temporary. Awful things will also happen. Endure them because they, too, shall pass. Throughout all of this, however, your presence of conscious awareness remains intact. Who you indeed are, throughout all of it, is still there. Your conscious awareness is the only true constant there is in your life. It is the only true thing. As long as you’re here, it’s here. Everything else will pass. You can find the peace and happiness you seek in your awareness, not in things and stuff, not in concepts, ideas, and beliefs. Your thoughts are only thoughts. They, too, shall pass. Your troubling emotions, they too shall pass. Your current situation shall pass. But who you indeed are will never change. Be in tune with that, and you’ll find lasting peace. How about you? Do you follow the sun? Join the discussion in the community. Four years after my diagnosis, I learned to embrace the superpowers my diagnosis gave me.
We’re all too familiar with the life-trashing side of bipolar that the media paints: punks overindulging in alcohol and drugs, bouncing from deep depressions to extreme manias, with symptoms like delusions, paranoia, incoherent speeches, and agitation. But there’s another side of the coin, too: drive, ambition, energy, enthusiasm, creativity, and self-confidence. And when you’re well, those things come across positively. With medication to smooth out my mood swings and talk therapy to defuse the distorted thinking of depression, I can see some pluses to having bipolar. #1 Ambition & Creative Drive Research links creativity and bipolar disorder. I think it is unclear exactly if or how, but I’ve always been a creative spirit in my own life. That combination of creativity and drive helped me make my mark as a communications consultant. I’ve now made a career shift to program management in NGOs, but facing off against bipolar has also given me a new passion: helping others with mental illness. It’s a limiting belief that bipolar diagnosis can make or break our ability to live well. When people get the message, ‘Oh, this is a chronic illness, and you better just hunker down and try to get through life, and you’re going to be very limited in what you can do’—people internalize that message. It’s still a day-to-day struggle, for everyone who has bipolar, because of the moods, so it takes vigilance, and it does take resilience. And I guess part of that is acknowledging the positive things it brings to you. #2 Helpful Traits While it may sound surprising to put “bipolar” and “positive” in the same sentence, an analysis published in the Journal of Affective Disorders found that having bipolar disorder may enhance some positive traits. The authors reviewed 81 studies that noted positive characteristics in patients with bipolar and found a strong association with five qualities: spirituality, empathy, creativity, realism, and resilience. These qualities make us better equipped for times of crisis. #3 Better with Bipolar? By accepting and wisely managing the illness, an individual with bipolar can harness elements of hypomania, such as enhanced creativity and productivity. Depressive introspection can yield deeper awareness and insights. And emotional pain can be a catalyst for personal growth. Many reasons we can do what we do is not necessarily despite having bipolar. It’s because of it. There are times when the racing thoughts, the divergent thinking, and the pressured speech can get you into a lot of trouble, but also it can help you sell things and problem-solve. If you leverage it properly and don’t go overboard, it’s incredible what you can do. #4 The Tipping Point Celebrating the “hypomanic edge” sets off alarm bells for many professionals who treat people with bipolar. There is a dangerous tendency among people with bipolar to romanticize mania. As a result, in the early stages or “lower levels” of hypomania, they find themselves more productive than usual. Then they’ll avoid treatment to protect their energized mood. I think we get into trouble when we say that bipolar people are more creative than others, and then the logical leap that people make is, ‘Well, if I go off my medications, then I’ll be creative.’ And that’s when disasters tend to occur. Elevated mood facilitates creativity only to a certain point, after which increasing mood elevation harms achievement. The tipping point marks a gateway to the scattered thinking, grandiose delusions, and destructive behaviors of mania. #5 Resilience & Bipolar Good outcomes in the face of life’s blows define resilience. Research suggests having a hyperthymic temperament provides insulation against post-traumatic stress disorder. More broadly, exposure to adversity can provide a “mental vaccine” against future hardship. Experience and education have fed the resilience that helps us weather mood shifts. I’ve been in the bottomless pits I have ever been in, some of them dug by myself, and I can climb out of them. I also know that the next thought is just a feeling. If I am suffering from depression, it’s just depression. It’s not based on anything other than maybe some chemistry. So is resilience an attribute of the hyperthymic temperament or developed through dealing with bipolar’s swings? Are traits like creativity and leadership inherently linked to the disorder or merely enhanced by elevated mood? The jury is still out on those questions. #6 A Better Outcome Positive psychological traits can contribute to a better outcome with bipolar. Spirituality, creativity, and resilience are worth cultivating as protective buffers. Having a supportive faith community or a satisfying outlet like painting or playing an instrument provides a life-affirming counterweight to mood extremes. People with bipolar disorder need to think about their personal goals for recovery—not just taking medication and only taking medication. Are there other things that could be helpful to their long-term quality of life? A particular exercise helped change my outlook recently: I wrote down all my anxieties, dreams, worries, and hopes, past, future, and present. Then I sorted the list by those I could influence that day. Finally, everything else is placed in a symbolic “universe box” and left in the hands of a higher power for the time being. I could not change people. I couldn’t change their reactions. It helped me realize how much I didn’t have control over it, which pointed me toward developing spirituality. There are so many things that we must let go of and put into the hands of a higher power, whatever that may be, and try to hang on to that sense of faith. Things will get better with time. How about you? What positive traits does bipolar disorder bring to you? Join the discussion in the community. Too often, bipolar disorder is portrayed in the media in an exaggerated form, with inaccurate depictions, violent images, and demeaning language. Consequently, it creates a stigma that harms people living with the condition.
Most people who live with mental illness have been blamed for their condition. They’ve been called names. Their symptoms have been referred to as a phase or something they can control. Stigma causes people to feel ashamed of something out of their control. Worst of all, stigma prevents people from seeking help. For a group of people who already carry a heavy burden, stigma is unacceptable to their pain. While stigma has been reduced recently, progress has not been quick enough. We all need to raise our voices against stigma. Every day, in every possible way, we must stand up to stigma. Stigma generally stems from fear and a sense of discomfort with something unknown. Some of it is fueled by inaccurate news reports that sometimes sensationalize or wrongly depict mental illnesses. Often, when people do not have an experience or knowledge of someone with a mental health illness, they may have limited information about mental illness, which leads to inaccurate representation. Somehow, media and entertainment generally portray people with a mental illness as incapable of holding down a job, unable to sustain long-term relationships, unpredictable, and non-functional. However, in many cases, with effective treatment, people with bipolar disorder can be employed, maintain relationships, and function well. Unfortunately, they also depict people with bipolar disorder as aggressive and violent. While the manic state may cause agitation or unusual, escalated behavior that impairs decision-making, far more often, the person with bipolar disorder is more likely to hurt themselves before they hurt someone else. Reducing Stigma Educating the public about mental illness is one of the best ways to overcome mental health stigma. A few ways to reduce stigma include:
Language Matters How we speak about bipolar disorder impacts how we think and view people with the condition. A few ways to shift the language include
People living with mental illness are brave, strong, and persistent—the qualities we need to face mental illness and fight stigma. No matter how you contribute to the mental health movement, you can make a difference simply by knowing that mental illness is not anyone’s fault, no matter what societal stigma says. You can make a difference by being and living authentically. How about you? How do you fight the stigma? Join the discussion in the community. I didn’t plan this – the life I have.
It’s supposed to be different. As a child, I imagined the life I was determined to have as I grew up. The life that I dreamed of having. Over the years, it took many shapes and forms, morphing each time I climbed what seemed to be a mountain top. We have expectations—lots of them. Only reality doesn’t always quite match up. Life twists and turns, changing direction to forge new paths, and things happen that don’t match the idealized playbook in our heads. Some of these things are good; some are not so good. So how do you cope when the unimaginable, the undesired, happens? How do you react when you wake up and realize that your life is not how you imagined it? It is okay to mourn the loss of the life you had planned for yourself. We all have circumstances that are not ideal. I never imagined I would find myself at times living through what I can describe as my own darkest time. My life wasn’t supposed to be like this. It can be challenging to let go of the life we think we should have. There is a sense of entitlement, a sense of “Why me? Why is this happening to me? Why can’t I have/do/be what I want?” It’s okay to mourn what once was or what you hoped would be. And then you get back up on the horse. There has to come a time for acceptance. When things aren’t going well, when we are struggling with life’s curveballs, it’s too easy to spiral down the path of despair and assumes tomorrow will bring just as much pain and fatigue as many imposed limitations as today. To feel frustration, anger, and disappointment at the unfairness of it all. These emotions are natural when we experience adversity, but they are not helpful in the long term. There has to come a time for acceptance. Only then can we start to move forward and find happiness. I live with a chronic mental health condition. It hurts not to be able to do everything I used to do or want to be able to do, but I still live a fulfilled and happy life. I actively search for ways to live well, expand my life and find my purpose and joy. It comes down to my choices—balancing treatments, diet, and lifestyle with mental health management—to assist me in living beyond the diagnosis that could so easily define, so quickly limit, who I am and all that I can be. Expressing my feelings through my writing, fueling my body with nourishing food, working to the extent that I am able, and sitting outside in the sunshine—all help me find my happiness. First, to help me accept the reality of what is and minimize the lamenting, the agonizing despair, of what isn’t. Then, to move forward in the best way I can. Learning to live in the moment can be one of the most challenging things to master. I still struggle with letting go of what could have been and how life was supposed to be. I wouldn't see the good if I spent all my time focusing on everything wrong. The love and support of my family and friends. The personal growth that only my experiences could teach me. Bipolar disorder has brought me to my knees, but it has also led me on an expedition of self-awareness and improvement, survival, love, and empowerment. It has taught me to enjoy life in all its guises, the small pleasures and the big ones. Taking positive steps every day to create a healthier, happier existence is critical. Focus on what is good in your life because there is always something if you look hard enough. Also, be proactive in creating good things in your life. For example, take up a new hobby, pursue the things that matter to you, learn a new skill, or go on that weekly coffee date with your best friend so there is less room to indulge in idle and frequently destructive thoughts about things you cannot change. Celebrate your life for what it is right now, in all its colors and lack of. How about you? What did you have to let go of to make space for renewal? Join the discussion in the community. ![]() Suffering is inevitable, so why do we run from it so much?
Because it hurts, evidently. Why would you sit with sadness, grief, disappointment, and heartbreak when you know you could distract yourself with work, a bottle of wine, or ill-advised, poorly funded, self-care shopping? Why would you cry when you could numb out while watching Grey’s Anatomy? But after every work sprint, at the bottom of the bottle, when you get bored from your new purchases, or when you realize you’ve binged 18 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy in a week, the emotions you’ve pushed away bubble back to the surface of your awareness. But what if we did allow the stillness to come? What if we let ourselves feel the hurt, pain, and suffering? We would find that emotions are like waves that crash into the shore and soak into the sand or wash away with the current. When we let our feelings out, they’re no longer tugging at our hand, begging for attention. So often, we are more afraid of what we might feel than we are of the actual feelings that await us. Sitting with feelings is scary. It comes with uncertainty and dread. It involves tearing down the protective walls, allowing you to feel emotions without judgment, and eventually accepting them. Raw and painful as they may be, allowing air to breathe and heal. Painful emotions are real. They exist on a scale of intensity and can come from seemingly small losses to life-altering tragedies. What you feel is valid. Our difficulties remind us to pay attention. We feel discomfort. Our authentic experience is mixed with opinions, judgments, and worries concerning how it should be. When we experience that pain without thinking or judging, it begins to fade. It can dissolve if you get your mind out of the way. It takes a lot of daily sitting to keep the courage available. The discipline, bravery, and consistency of sitting with it build our ability to experience our authentic lives. How do you stay with the pain? You stay with it as long as possible, and inevitably, you start to master it. And it’s not a matter of virtue whether you sit with it. It isn’t good or bad. We do our best; that’s all we can ever do. Nothing we do is wasted if we’re aware of it. Nobody likes anguish. But the idea that there’s some other way across the bridge from unreality to reality besides going across it is an illusion. We are good at unreality. We built our whole culture on trying to alter our reality. It hurts—well, buy a new dress. It hurts—take a holiday. It hurts—take a pill. We have dozens and dozens of ways to cover that hurt. And, because we live in a society with so much stuff, those ways are much more available to us than to people in earlier or less affluent communities. If letting your emotions in feels too scary, prepare a list of coping strategies you can use if you feel overwhelmed. First, start a list of anxiety triggers, and ask yourself, “what are the underlying feelings or fears behind each one”? Then, give yourself a quiet hour to deepen your awareness of these and do so non-judgmentally. Finally, work with a therapist on increasing your ability to feel safe in feeling your emotions. All feelings are valid. They may not necessarily be rational - that’s okay. Give yourself grace and let your feelings flow naturally. How about you? How do you sit with your pain? Join the discussion in the community. It is difficult for many to maintain a healthy mental space in any given year, but the last three years have tested many more than they can bear. I know it feels nearly impossible to secure mental health in an unhealthy world.
Protests, riots, economic collapse, pandemics, explosions, wars, bans, ethnic cleansing, executions, and political vacuum, normal ceased to exist. Everything is new and uncomfortable, and we get horrifying updates daily. Yet, amid completely unprecedented times, people worldwide were and still are trying to find hope. It does not lie within any of us to be entirely sane. Maybe bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety are healthy responses to an unhealthy world. Perhaps, people and their minds aren’t the problems – maybe it’s a normal, healthy response to an unhealthy situation. I watched and engaged as humanity unfolded before my eyes. The only downside is that humanity doesn’t just mean love, kindness, and compassion. Sometimes humans can be cruel and selfish, and dangerous. I stare at the perpetual parade of horrible scrolling past me, from the second I wake up prematurely in the early morning until the stretched-out nighttime moments I try unsuccessfully to fall asleep—and how I question my grip on reality. I know the disbelief I feel in the presence of loved ones, friends, and leaders who now seem to be speaking some strange foreign tongue that I can’t make any sense of. I hear the nagging question I ask inside my head a few hundred times a day: “Is it me, or has a huge portion of the world lost its mind?” I don’t think I’m alone when I say that the world, and all that goes on top of it, crushes my spirit and body most days. I have turned off the news in a superficial attempt to reduce anxiety. But ignoring the world does not provide an escape from the knowledge that we live in a broken world where some people can just “turn off the news” and maintain peace while others wake daily to utterly desperate circumstances. The human experience constantly undulates between good and evil, new and old, pretty and ugly. So the question I have been asking myself over the last three years isn’t how do we stop this? Or how do we maintain normalcy? Instead, I have been asking myself, how do I (we) navigate these ever-changing waters? I have only come up with a simple answer: Stop trying to figure it out. We must learn to set ourselves up to be healthy in a world where being unhealthy is the easier choice. #1 Practice having grace on yourself daily. Be gentle with yourself when everything feels overwhelming. Do your best to feel what you feel when feeling it because there is no step-by-step guidebook. No one knows how to feel right now. No one knows what to do. No one knows what’s going to happen next. #2 Get comfortable with being uncomfortable. If you haven’t already, that’s okay. We are still in a global pandemic, fighting injustice, and we all still have so much going on. Acknowledge that there is time to grow and do your best to give yourself the space to do so. It may not be easy, but hopefully, it is worth it. #3 Learn to amplify awareness. Become attuned to what’s going on inside you and around you. We live in a culture filled with distractions, but it’s helpful to be aware of what triggers and excites you. For example, what situations make you want to stress eat? Or when you have a better-than-average day, what conditions led to that? You can then take action based on what you’re noticing. #4 Preemptively repair. Get ahead of the damage that’s done to you just by living in an unhealthy culture. This could include eating healthy food before you’re ravenous or taking a break before feeling frazzled. If you do these things before they become critical, you’ll have more available energy and resilience. #5 Invest in continuous growth and learning. Acknowledge that being healthy in an unhealthy world requires skill and a particular knowledge base. So strive to learn about healthy living, search for things that might help you, and experiment to uncover what works best for you. Tomorrow will bring hope and despair. All we can do is ride the wave. This, too, shall pass. Courage is not fearlessness.
Courage is taking action despite the fear you feel. Courage is the willingness to respond fearlessly despite the anxiety and worry that might be tugging at you. I have always been drawn to courageous lives, people who stand up to injustice, speak truth to power, take risks, and feel joy in living boldly. But, quite often, these bolder lives are not filled with flash and dazzle but are instead of a quieter nature, marked by a humble determination to make the most of the gifts life gives us. What is courage, then? The Stoics believed that courage was a virtue – a marker of moral excellence. More specifically, it was the virtue that moderated our instincts toward recklessness on one hand and cowardice on the other. They believed the courageous person feared only things that were worthy of fear. Courage means knowing what to fear and responding appropriately to that fear. For them, what matters isn’t just whether you face your fears but why you face them and what you fear. If we look at the word’s derivation from the Latin cor (the root of coeur in French and cuore in Italian), meaning “heart.” How does one act from one’s heart? To live from one’s heart? This is not some soft, New Age metaphor for doing whatever we want, what pleases us most. On the contrary, I believe that the word’s root reveals that when we act courageously, we respond to our deepest selves, often unknown until the moment of being tested. The defining core of courage is love. Without love, courage is not possible. Acts of bravado, yes—but true courage is the natural outgrowth of our love of all that we hold dear, the preciousness of each human life, and a deep belief that what we love matters. Without love, there is nothing at stake, nothing to fight for. In trying to live more courageously, I practice understanding what courage is and training myself to perform small, daily acts of bravery. #1 Courage means being afraid and acting anyway. If you tend to be fearful, you probably assume you’re not courageous. However, fear is a universal emotion, and we all know how terrible terror feels. Thus, we should grasp that feeling afraid and acting in any way is a form of nobility. #2 Courage is a habit, a muscle you can exercise. Most of us aren’t born courageous, so we shouldn’t expect to acquire it magically without practice. Get in the habit of deciding what you think about things and speaking from that place of conviction. Practice saying what you think about small, inconsequential things: pleasantly, politely—but firmly. #3 Notice every time you do something that you’re scared to do—something your body is telling you not to do. You’ll start to realize that you do these things all the time. So you’re already much braver than you think. This is particularly true of shy people for whom daily life requires them to smile in the face of fear. #4 Dare to let go of things. There are some battles we wage on a more frequent base. For example, how far do you let your boss push you around before you stand up for yourself? How much do you let your money or status control your actions instead of living the life you want to live? And how much do you worry about your possessions being stolen from you or losing your loved ones? Learn to let go of the fear of losing things. Impermanence permeates life. Embrace that. #5 Know thyself. We must look closer and go inward to see what we need to ask ourselves. Then we will see what possible battles we can find there. How do we know our limits and when we need to act? That starts with knowing yourself. It is time to ask ourselves a lot of questions. These are not easy questions: we must go for the most challenging questions to get to the core. And believe me, this takes a lot of courage. Because most of the time, we will find things we don’t like about ourselves. Unless we find the courage to investigate ourselves, we can’t grow. #6 Welcome failure. Most people fear failure, which often keeps them stagnating or stuck in the same place. The fear of failure can lead people to develop rigid standards and become perfectionistic in an effort not to experience the embarrassment or shame that comes with failure. But failure is an experience that we should embrace. After all, failure is an opportunity to grow as a person. It allows you to learn something new, change directions, and see what you're made of. And if viewed as a welcome experience instead of a worst-case scenario, it stretches you to try new things despite the risks involved. We are all courageous in our ways—some of us have simply had it tested a bit more than others. Such trials are the stuff of life we would never wish for, but at the end of the tunnel, we find ourselves grateful for having passed through them. Like love, courage never goes away. It only changes form from time to time, builds on itself, evolves, expands, and enhances everything it touches. Maybe the truth about courage is that it’s all about truth. It’s about looking reality in the face and having the force of will not to turn away, despite the pain, the unpleasantness, and the risk. Maybe it’s about looking for long enough to see the joy in the pain, the beauty in the ugliness, and the comfort in the little risks we take every day. Perhaps it’s only then we can know what’s worth dying for – and what’s worth living for. How about you? How do you embrace courage in your life? Join the discussion in the community. It took me years to face the reality of having bipolar disorder.
I refused to get a diagnosis for a long time. I wanted to be strong enough to handle my moods on my own. With every cycle, I’d get better, spiral into hypomania, and crash into depression. It was an act of defiance leading me down a dangerous path. After the episode in 2018, I decided to change. My path to stability after this decision has been a long one that continues today. The key was letting go of the life I had imagined to create a life I could live that would keep me stable. I choose a stable life. Bipolar management is a conscious choice I make every day. I choose healthy sleeping habits over wild nights. My concept of a good time changed. The super-late nights of drinking with exciting new people had to end, or I knew it would eventually be my stability on the line due to the risks I was taking. I’ve replaced boozy benders with hearty conversations over good meals. I worked hard at managing stress and setting healthy boundaries. I make these adjustments for my health and well-being because life is better when I choose stability. Here are some tools and strategies that worked to help me maintain stability: #1 I take a proactive approach to my mental healthcare. I research my issues, keep notes and articles, and write down my questions and feelings. I chronicle my treatment experience, documenting my reactions to medications, the cycles of my moods, and possible triggers for high or low periods. I note each medication, the dosage, and when I take it. Working with my healthcare team, I learned to manage my daily care. #2 I educate myself. I look into not only my particular mood disorders but the various medications used to treat them and the other therapies and lifestyle approaches I need to make my treatment most effective. Because I’ve researched it in books, through friends, and on the Internet, I’m not surprised when talk therapy causes more stress than relief. I know that short-term frustrations turn into long-term progress and recovery. #3 I use what I learn in treatment and take lifestyle changes seriously. I’ve realized that I can’t solve everything with a pill. I know that medication can be more effective when talk therapy helps me relax and acquire coping skills that lower my brain's cortisol levels (stress hormones). I understand that medication is more effective when, through talk therapy, I derive a sense of support and relief after discussing problematic past events or current struggles in my life. Talk therapy can be more effective when medication supports my mood swings enough to help me discuss issues. I know that talk therapy can be much more effective when ‘high’ moods are moderated enough for me to keep appointments and reasonably discuss my issues. #4 I take other medical issues seriously. A body in good physical shape responds more effectively to medication and talk therapy. Many physical issues and changes can affect brain chemistry. Menopause, aging, sleep disorders, and medications for other medical issues can interfere with medications prescribed to treat mood disorders. Those who take their recovery seriously tend to understand their body and medical issues more clearly. #5 I don’t self-medicate. I refrain from using alcohol or narcotics to treat my symptoms. Many often find alcohol and illegal drug use an easy, quick way to numb sad or extreme feelings. The long-term problems these substances create can be far worse than what life brings their way. I know these substances are inefficient ways to feel better and that they can intensify the negative effects of bipolar disorder. #6 I don’t give up. I find the most effective treatment options that are available to me. I am determined to find structured ways to survive and create balance. I understand that recovery takes time and requires hard work. I also make an effort to maintain regular contact with my friends, I join supportive communities, and I get help when I need it. #7 I practice gratitude. I am aware of the support and encouragement I receive from family and friends. I find it helpful to keep a daily gratitude journal to remind myself of what I’m thankful for. Changing my thinking from the burdens of bipolar to gratefulness for life’s blessings helps to improve my state of mind and allows me to approach new obstacles with a measure of perspective. At times, I grieve over having an illness that limits my definition of fun. I grieved for my past “unaware” life when it seemed so easy to let mania take over, drink when I was depressed, use sex to feel better, and uproot when life got tough. Now I make it a point to remember how I felt after those manic episodes: the dangers, the threat of an STD or pregnancy, the hangovers, and the inevitable depression when I could not get out of bed. My nostalgia is fleeting, and I can live with the grief. Every year, I am more stable. I still get sick, but not like before. Life is much better now because this is my real life, not one fueled by my mood swings. Do I wish to burn the candle at both ends and live an unconstrained life? Sometimes, but I know that life will not be a good one. I am used to bipolar now. I understand it. Maybe prioritizing stability and creating a fulfilling, productive life that also allows for bipolar management doesn’t sound very exciting, but it opens a world of personal choice that is beautiful. How about you? How do you maintain your stability? Join the discussion in the community. In 2002, Dr. James Kaufman of California State University in San Bernardino conducted a retrospective study of 1,629 writers that showed poets — specifically, female poets — were likelier than non-fiction writers, playwrights, and fiction writers to have some mental illness. He coined the link between creativity and mental illness as "The Sylvia Plath Effect."
Popular culture has long stereotyped poets as depressed and creative scientists as mad. The idea of a link between creativity and mental illness goes back to the time of Aristotle when he wrote that eminent philosophers, politicians, poets, and artists all have tendencies toward "melancholia." Professor Kay Redfield Jamison is an international authority on the subject, both as a psychiatrist and as a person with bipolar. She observes that manic-depressives in their high or manic state think faster and associate more freely. When manic, people need less sleep and have unusual energy, remarkable focus, and an inflated self-belief, all of which may allow the production of original work. Depression may be the flip side of the creative manic state and the price artists pay for their bouts of productive work. There is no question that the writing processes of people in a bipolar episode differ from the typical processes of others. The differences are significant and complex. One is that writers who are symptomatic or undergoing treatments are forced into or barred from specific abilities despite their struggle not to be. If editing is needed, but the person is in a manic or hypomanic state, the editing might be over the top. If idea generation is necessary, but the person is depressed, such idea generation may not be possible. If drafting by hand or taking notes is usually the most effective for a writer and that writer is undergoing specific treatments, hands may shake too much to use, and vision might double or triple. In addition, ideas may be foggy, and chunks of memory may be erased. I’ve often experienced what I would come to call depression block. It's not writer's block. I've experienced writer's block, where I get to a specific part of the story or something else I'm writing, and I don't know how to continue. But no. When it just comes to a screeching halt, you know, it's the illness. And I can't get up on top of it for some reason. With depression block, there is the sheer difficulty of putting anything on the page: difficulty finding even the most basic words, difficulty coming up with ideas, difficulty keeping things together, difficulty mustering the energy to write, and difficulty mustering the energy to even sit at the computer. I'd get to the computer, sit, and watch the line blink. And I'd try to type and get a sentence in a half hour. Then I wouldn't say I liked it. It was so frustrating that I would go back to bed. Depressive symptoms such as apathy, anhedonia, low self-confidence, lack of thought, and low energy kept me from being able to write. As much as writing meant to me, I didn’t want to have a thing to do with words when depressed. I also experienced anhedonia, a loss of enjoyment in otherwise pleasurable things, including reading and writing. This loss of enjoyment was all the more pronounced because I wanted to identify as a writer. I felt like a fraud. Whenever I thought of picking up and writing, I felt unworthy, and it stopped me. You can't write when you're depressed. When writing is possible while depressed, such writing tends to be personal. Even if I did write, the work is never whole because I lack the energy and the ability to make something coherent and structured. In most hypomanic episodes, I had the feeling of flow. It was the feeling of everything, like your knowledge of words, your memory about your life, your analytical skills, and everything flowing together to make it come out to be just about as complete and sound as possible. Everything in the world was connected, beautiful, and had the utmost meaning, and everybody appreciated that meaning. But, as the hypomanic episode progresses toward mania, the precise and swift connections and flow of hypomania can get more and more "out there" and more bizarre. The clarity becomes incoherent. Manic writings begin to have no substance to them. The pen keeps moving, and it doesn't make any sense. As mania progresses, the writing might become frantic and illegible, and one might be unable to keep up with one's thoughts. You can’t write as fast as you can think. Ultimately, psychosis can make the writing so disjointed - if the person can gather thoughts to write at all, the writing makes no sense. In The Midnight Disease, neurologist Alice W. Flaherty writes about hypergraphia, or "the overpowering desire" to write, which accompanies mania. Like writing in a depression, writing in a mania parallels manic symptoms. For example, people tend to be more verbose, have more thoughts, and have those thoughts at incredible speeds. In addition, they might experience pressured speech - a clinical hallmark of mania, which for writers can mean writing more and more. You think you're writing the most significant thing ever when you're doing it. And it's very humbling when you go back and read it, and it's so broken up. Artists often resist taking medication, fearing that losing the instability will also mean losing their creativity. But Jamison, who is on lithium for bipolar, says recent studies of artists and writers diagnosed with bipolar and taking medication found three-quarters were as productive or more productive on medication. She says the destructive effect of depression on the brain, the progressive nature of bipolar, and the genuine risk of suicide argue against refusing treatment. “No one is creative when severely depressive, psychotic or in four-point restraints…Artists and writers tend to focus on the risks of treatment and not on the risks of no treatment.” Treatment enables me to be more creative because I am more stable. My medication affects my "creative impulses" but not creativity itself. The medication also provides stability for my everyday life and gives me an outlet to maintain better control over my creativity. I'm unquestionably happier, more stable, capable, and competent on medication. So why should I biologically or neurologically punish my brain and body when I've been healed in so many ways? How about you? How do you deal with your creativity? Join the discussion in the community. My battle with mental health and bipolar disorder has been a silent battle for a long time.
At my darkest, I sat in my room in complete silence. I was alone in my own tangled thoughts. No one could see into the window of my soul. I hid my pain and it well. I buried it deep within; I kept a wall up so the world could not get in. I felt like screaming. I felt like I was going mad. In silence, I suffered. I wandered through the darkness, searching for a glimpse of light to shine into my life. We don’t talk about mental health enough. Mental health in Lebanon or elsewhere is not a priority. Lack of awareness perpetuates the stigma around mental illness, which stops people from receiving treatment. It even prevents them from talking about their feelings as they fail to be validated by others. Another reason why mental illness goes untreated is that many cannot afford it. And those who are aware and can afford it keep it quiet. Bipolar disorder is a severe mental illness that can be difficult to manage. Those with bipolar disorder often suffer in silence because they don't want to burden others with their problems. The stigma surrounding mental illness can make it difficult for those with bipolar disorder to seek help or treatment and make people feel isolated and alone. It's important to remember that you're not alone and others understand what you're going through. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, and asking for help is okay. Many resources are available to help people with mental illness, including support groups, therapy, and medication. If you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness, don't hesitate to seek help. The bipolar disorder diagnosis can be daunting, but many people living with this condition are highly functional and successful. It takes a lot of courage and patience to face mental illness head-on, but it is worth it. Patience is vital when dealing with bipolar disorder because the ups and downs can be very unpredictable. You never know when you might have a manic or depressive episode, so it's essential to be prepared for anything. Bravery is also essential because mental illness can be incredibly isolating. It can be tempting to withdraw from friends and family, but reaching out for help and support is necessary. It took a while for me to see and believe, but I know now some understand and will take the time to take me by the hand to listen to my inner pain. We can’t hide behind our mask of despair, and we can’t hide away forever. I will not hide behind a painted smile anymore. I will not suffer alone in silence, not one more day. I am no longer confined to the inner turmoil in my mind. My silence is not madness. My silence was fear, fear of rejection, and the unknown. Not anymore. I broke the wall. Silence sets us apart from the world we live in, from a life we all deserve. So step out from your dark shadows, and show the world who you are and what you have to offer. Lift your eyes upward. There is hope. The light has returned to my once dimmed eyes. How about you? How do you deal with the stigma of mental health? Join the discussion in the community. We feel caged by society's expectations of us and the limitations of our environment, yet the hardest cages to break out of are our thoughts.
Some cages are imposed upon us by the thoughts and ideas of those around us, and other times we put ourselves into them willingly. So we can avoid discomfort, pain, suffering, change, growth, and rebirth. Sometimes they can even be helpful, but other times they do nothing but hold us back. The steel cages often tell us who to be, where to live, what we “should” do for a living, how to behave, and even who to like or dislike. These limitations can restrict our learning and development, robbing us of opportunities for personal growth and exploration. They dictate how we see and interact with the world around us. Learning to break free from these mental limitations can open up new opportunities for ourselves. Challenging ourselves regularly is critical in expanding our horizons and helps us live a more fulfilling life. However, breaking free from our comfort zones can be scary at first, but it is ultimately worth it if it means living a fuller life. We may leave jobs, countries, and relationships only to find ourselves in the same place. Wherever we go, there we are, goes the saying. We can't run from our problems - we must face them head-on. Even if it means admitting that we're wrong or need help, we must take the first step in fixing our problems. Sometimes, the only way to break free is to make a radical change. Whether it's quitting your job, moving away from your family and friends, or changing your whole lifestyle, starting from scratch is the only way to get out of a bad situation. Even if we think we're escaping our past, it always has a way of catching up with us. Whether it's something someone said to us years ago or an event that happened recently, memories never really die - they linger until we deal with them. The best way to deal with our demons is to confront them directly. By facing what bothers us head-on instead of trying to run away from it, we can start working through these issues and eventually become stronger on the other side. Only by accepting ourselves can we hope to break free from our self-imposed prisons. But, if all we do is try hard not to make mistakes and conform entirely to society's expectations, those expectations will eventually wear us down. We will end up in the same place we started - stuck in a rut because we didn't learn how to break free. We still have to deal with our limitations and the blocks that we were creating within our minds. I was always very independent and didn't particularly appreciate feeling constrained or limited. When I was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, it was tough to accept that there were now things that I couldn't do and would need continuous support. It took me a long time to come to terms with my new reality, but eventually, I realized that my limitations didn't have to define me or my life. Instead, I decided to focus on what I could do and find ways to work around my limitations. And slowly but surely, I started to feel like myself again - even though my life was now different than it had been before. For me, these limitations pertained to my self-confidence and self-worth—how I thought about myself and what I believed about my ability to go after what I wanted and succeed. In perpetually thinking I couldn’t do things I wanted to and wasn’t worthy of them, I paralyzed myself with fear. Growing up, I was always a shy and introverted child. I felt I could never really measure up to my extroverted and confident peers, leading to significant self-confidence and self-worth issues. As a result, I feared going after what I wanted or pursuing my dreams. These limitations crippled my life and prevented me from achieving my deserved success. It wasn't until recently that I started working on breaking free from these limitations. In doing so, I finally believed in myself enough to pursue my dreams and achieve success. For many years the outward journey did the trick for me. I changed jobs, countries, and relationships. It gave a respite to my soul, although I did not have the understanding to recognize it at the time. However, I realized that the outward journey was only taking me so far and that I needed to focus on my inward journey. Once I started focusing on my inward journey, I began to feel more connected to myself. By learning to break free from what was holding me back, I could create a more fulfilling life for myself. I have found that, ultimately, the inner journey leads to lasting freedom. I was always a rebellious person, even from a young age. It caused me many problems in my life, as I often got into trouble because I wouldn't say I liked being told what to do. It wasn't until I began my inner journey that I realized that my need for freedom was a need for inner peace. Once I found this inner peace, I could break free from my past patterns of rebellion and create my path in life. Now, whenever I feel lost or confused, I remember that the only thing I need to do is look within myself for the answers. And this is always true whether things are going well or not- the journey itself is what leads to lasting freedom. Freedom truly is in mind. If you feel caged in yours, remember presence is the key. Learning to break free from my mental limitations was a huge turning point in my life. Before this, I had been living in a world of my own making, where I was always the controller. I thought I was in control of everything and everyone around me, but I was holding myself back. It's easy to get caught up in our thoughts and feelings and forget that we're not trapped in them. When we're stuck in our heads, it feels like obstacles surround us – but we're only feeling this way because we're focusing on the wrong things. So instead of worrying about what other people are doing or thinking about us, focus on your present surroundings and take time for yourself. Once I realized I could choose how to react to my thoughts and emotions, I felt like a new person. Suddenly, life felt much more manageable and livable. This newfound freedom has allowed me to acknowledge my dreams (both big and small) and live a much more balanced life overall. If you find yourself constantly bogged down by your negative thoughts or feelings – try reminding yourself that you have control over your response, no matter what happens next. This newfound freedom has allowed me to pursue my dreams (both big and small) and live a much happier life overall. If you find yourself constantly bogged down by your negative thoughts or feelings – try reminding yourself that you have control over your response, no matter what happens next. How about you? How do you cultivate your freedom? Join the discussion in the community. There’s something strangely attractive about the stereotype of the crazy artist. Few may admit it, but the idea that van Gogh’s madness fueled his brilliance offers much hope that their demons can produce something beautiful.
The exact relationship between creativity, mental illness, and psychiatric medications are still largely inconclusive and controversial. It becomes more complex when you consider that creativity is sometimes a symptom of mental illness, like in the case of mania and bipolar disorder. I’m an artist and a writer and have been both for most of my life. And if I’m being candid, much of my earliest art (at least that which doesn’t make me cringe when I look at it) was a product of mania. I was unmedicated, and the elevated mood took unbridled hold on me across the years, causing me to pirouette my way across many late nights, start a plethora of novels, and paint my pain away. It seemed muses were inexhaustible and that ubiquitous “creative spark” was an undying blaze. After my diagnosis, I believed I wasn’t a good artist; I convinced myself I just got lucky across my episodes. But as time passed, I adjusted to the medication and found the right therapist. As a result, I feel stable, and inspiration is starting to knock on the door. When I began getting back in touch with my artsy side, I realized I still have it in me, always have, even in my healthy periods. Mania might provide a surge of ideas and the laser focus and drive to make those ideas a tangible reality. It does not, however, provide innate talent or a deep-seated passion. I have been writing since I could clutch a pen in my little fist and scribble on a page. When I’m in an episode, there’s no way I can concentrate on a piece long enough to make it coherent and well-written. I waltz from project to project, and my mind is spinning too fast to ensure the storm I’m typing up is solid and making sense. However, this is not to say that my mental struggles haven’t inspired my creativity. Most of my writings are inspired by my experiences during episodes and wouldn’t be there if I didn’t have a life riddled with mental health issues. We have bought the idea that medication will dull our sparkle and erase our edge — that it will flatten us, level us out to the point of having no shine at all to our spirits, and live out our days in anonymity and uselessness. We think medication will cause our muses to flee. This is a lie. Before I found the proper medication for my bipolar diagnosis, I was scattered. I had started a couple of novels and a few articles but nothing more. I was busy just trying to survive. However, the year after I got on the proper medication, I consistently published articles on this blog weekly. Finding the proper medication will not dull you. Instead, it may focus your energies, making you more productive than relentless mania and depression. It may spur you on to greater heights of creativity and progress. I learned that people with bipolar disorder have unique experiences that may offer us different emotional and intellectual perspectives on the world. Although we may associate heightened creativity with mania, it is possible to enhance or explore our creativity while supporting our well-being and maintaining a treatment plan for bipolar disorder. Bipolar therapy must include a therapeutic discussion of all creative issues and a developed plan to help us maintain mood stability while retaining and ultimately enhancing our creative abilities. This starts with redefining what the creative process is all about. Energy alone is not creativity. It’s simply the body's fuel being used up at an accelerated pace. The concept of the creative process acknowledges the need for a developing skill set and a formulated plan using the plotting of time as an essential ingredient. It also requires ongoing learning and skill refinement toward an appropriate level of success. This is best achieved through bipolar therapy in the post-stabilization phase when medications and overall treatment are set for long-term maintenance. Having once been so scared that I would lose my entire sense of self, I discovered that a stable life — a balanced life — actually feels like me and that I am, indeed, at the core, an artist and a writer. How about you? How do you nurture your creativity? Join the discussion in the community. I was raised in a “suck it up culture.”
When faced with difficulties, from scratching our knees or narrowly escaping car bombs, we were told to get up, dust off and move. The tenacity and grit of that upbringing have served me, but I didn’t learn how to deal with uncertainty or manage emotional risk. The only thing worse than the pain itself is feeling as though your pain has been invalidated. I spent many years trying to outsmart vulnerability by making things sure and definite. But unfortunately, my inability to lean into the discomfort of vulnerability limited the fullness of beautiful experiences that come with uncertainty: Love, belonging, trust, joy, and creativity. But as Brené Brown has shown in her research, courage is born out of vulnerability, not strength. Brown suggests that, inherently, humans are vulnerable creatures. To allow ourselves to be vulnerable is, therefore, to be authentically ourselves and be more self-aware about who we are and the emotions we feel – and that’s no easy task. When we are so busy trying to be perfect, we lose sight of who we are, and it is challenging to thrive when we don’t connect to ourselves. Instead, Brown demonstrates that there is power in being ourselves, imperfections and all. To be vulnerable is to show up, in all our imperfections, ready to take on the world. When we show up, through and despite our fear and shame, or in other words, our vulnerabilities, we are teaching ourselves to be more resilient to these emotions. We’re hesitant to make ourselves vulnerable for a few reasons: Fear of Judgement — When we show people who we are, we open the door to them disapproving, thinking we’re weird, or slapping us with some other less-than-flattering label. Fear of Rejection — If we tell someone how we feel and they feel differently, we take it personally. No one particularly likes rejection, but to avoid it, is a directive of the ego. Furthermore, it messes with our perception of who we are. Fear of Appearing Weak or Losing our Power — We like to maintain control over our situations. Once you’ve made yourself vulnerable to someone, you’ve entrusted them with a bit of that power. When I was younger, I was more open and free. I shared all of myself with others. As I grew and matured, however, I learned that the world could be a harrowing place. I learned that not everyone is on my side and not all situations will go my way. Over time, then, I learned to protect myself. It might mean that I’ve built walls around my heart, convinced myself that I never really loved the person who hurt me anyway and became practiced in the art of denial. Even worse, I started to believe and internalize negative thoughts and feelings about myself. As I searched for answers to life's hurts, I may have even begun to think I was responsible for them. Although this might seem normal and natural, it’s also self-defeating. Learning from past mistakes and striving for personal growth are essential. However, it is equally important to learn to forgive my lapses. How often are we quick to forgive someone else's mistake, or even evil behavior, while continuing to beat ourselves up for an error we made? Likewise, building walls creates a safe space into which we can quickly retreat, but it also blocks the flow of energy and love in both directions. It is easy to become trapped behind our emotional defenses, unable to give or receive positive and negative emotions. It leaves many of us feeling isolated and alone. One way to reduce self-isolation and the fear of vulnerability is to embrace our authentic selves. We have been hurt before, so we seek to minimize the risk of being hurt again. However, the best way to reduce the potential damage is not to build walls or try to act according to some self-created checklist. To best way to do this is to learn to love yourself unapologetically. Loving myself is one of the most arduous journeys I have ever faced. Everyone has flaws, imperfections, embarrassing stories, and past mistakes they wish they could forget. People are insecure, awkward, and desperately hoping they can change certain things. That's human nature. The trick is to realize that everyone feels this way. No matter how successful, beautiful, or perfect someone appears, they all have the same awkwardness, insecurity, and self-doubt. Learning to love yourself begins by acknowledging yourself as a whole human being—flaws, imperfections, and all. Own and embrace your past mistakes, but realize that they don't define your present or future. Apologize to anyone you feel you have significantly wronged, and then move on. Forgive yourself. While this is often easier said than done, moving forward, try to live by a few simple truths:
In life, vulnerability removes barriers, enabling us to form vital, more authentic connections while experiencing living to its fullest. Vulnerability is not weakness but strength. And it is very much a part of existence. It is the ability to expose who we are and what we do and to challenge ourselves and how we live while making room for growth. How about you? How do you embrace vulnerability? Join the discussion in the community. Inner chaos can feel daunting.
Chaos brings about uncertainty, fears, and inabilities, and it is inevitable. Life is crazy, hectic, and uncertain, amplifying the chaos within us. With all of the outer chaos in today’s world that seems to bombard us every second, finding any peace between all the challenges being thrown at us can seem impossible. Living with internal chaos can affect our lives and well-being in many ways. It can cause us to lose focus and bog down our minds. It can cause stress and make day-to-day tasks more difficult. Internal chaos also causes emotional and psychological distress. Yet chaos is not the enemy. Instead, chaos is simply a symptom that alerts us to a bigger problem: dissatisfaction. Inner chaos is an overwhelming sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness with ourselves as humans and the life we are living. Here’s how inner chaos manifests for me:
I’ve often turned to philosophy when facing the chaos within, particularly the Stoics. The Stoics focus on two things:
The goal of Stoicism is to reach inner peace by facing and overcoming adversity, practicing self-control, being conscious of our impulses, and realizing our ephemeral nature and the short time allotted. These practices helped them live with their nature and not against it. We must understand the obstacles we face and not run from them; we must learn to transform them into fuel to feed our fire. I will share some of my favorite principles from the Stoic school of philosophy. Stoic tenets will improve your overall state of mind and life if embraced and exercised regularly. Living intentionally and authentically requires us to be vulnerable, committed, adaptive, and brave, which requires a mindset that can readily negate distractions or negative impulses while focusing our hearts and minds on what’s important. It’s a tricky balancing act. Without a philosophy to guide our work and life, we will relentlessly succumb to our excuses and distractions. We will make the comfortable mistake of acting on our moods, not our principles. Principle #1: Acknowledge that all emotions come from within. It is not outside forces that make us feel something; what we tell ourselves creates our feelings. A stressful situation or unmarked to-do list is not inherently stressful—our thoughts about them are stressing us out. Many of us want to place blame and responsibility on external objects because it’s easy to do, but the truth remains that all conflicts start internally in our minds. When we flee from reality—a deadline, an urgent email—we are doing nothing but harming ourselves and undermining our self-discipline. The next time you encounter an obstacle and feel resistance, don’t look at what’s around you. Instead, look within. Principle #2: Recognize there is life after failure. We can spend months or even years on a project, only to hear destructive criticism or, worse, see it fail. When we share a part of ourselves in our work, and it fails, it can feel painful. But recovering from that failure is a practice, a mindset. The lessons we can internalize from that failed experience can help us improve. No failure, no growth. Principle #3: Challenge yourself to be brutally honest. It’s hard to change habits if we aren’t aware of why we didn’t do what we planned to do today and chose to watch mindless series instead. It’s essential to be mindful of the urges that obstruct us from showing up, engaging, committing, and being present. “Why, exactly, am I feeling this way?” Get to the bottom of that. Investigate it. Dissect it. When you feel resistance, use that as a cue to go forward. The challenge, of course, is training yourself to think that way. This isn’t about talent or some unconscious reflex. Instead, the practice of self-awareness—to think about your thinking—in how you think, feel, and behave is a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it becomes. Principle #4: Reflect on what you spend the most time on. Scrolling your Instagram feed? You’re probably not even paying attention to those reels and sponsored ads. That email? I know it’s fun connecting, but can it wait? In my observations, people who live their best lives do so because of their ability to prioritize. They honor every hour of their day. If we put cameras behind our heroes, would our life ethics compare? Our focus? Our determination to get things done? To do something that matter to you most? Principle #5: Put the phone away and be present. It’s not that we live in an age of distractions, but rather a period where we fail to teach and embrace mindful motives. To be present, as well as learning to be alone, is a habit. Some people are good at it because they make time to do it if needed, or they would go mad. Throughout your day, find a moment to sit and be still, however fleeting. It doesn’t matter where you are. Take a few deep breaths, put your phone on silent so there’s no chance of interruption, and just reflect on the events that took place throughout your day. When you’re working, be ruthlessly present. Let your mind focus on the task and what you’re trying to accomplish, and do it with diligence, patience, attentiveness, and care. Sooner or later, you’ll realize how much of an asset this is to your overall quality of life. Principle #6: Remind yourself that time is our most precious resource. What I particularly love and find challenging about Stoicism is that death is at the forefront of their thoughts. They realized the ephemeral nature of humans. It provides a sense of urgency to realize that you’ve lived a certain number of hours, and the hours ahead of you are not guaranteed as the ones you have lived. When I think of this, I realize that every day truly is an opportunity to improve, not in a cliché kind of way, but to learn to honestly appreciate what we are capable of achieving and how we are very responsible for the quality of our lives. It makes our self-respect, work ethic, generosity, self-awareness, attention, and growth evermore significant. The last thing any of us wants to do is die with regret, hence why following principles of Stoicism puts your life into perspective. It humbles you and should also deeply motivate you. How we lead our lives must embody the principles we practice. Less comparing, criticizing, and consuming; more creating, learning, and living. How about you? What current principles do you follow that help you master inner chaos? Join the discussion in the community. “Emotion” is a dirty word.
I spent the better part of my twenties oscillating between bipolar highs and lows. Ever since my diagnosis, I’ve been wary of any emotion. They became something that would make me vulnerable, fragile, and weak. Prone to a relapse. Yet, this fundamental inability to admit and discuss my emotions, even in front of myself or my therapist, the lack of skill to navigate and work through them, and the suffocated curiosity to realize what underlining internal disharmony they indicate, have kept me in an emotional and psychological pressure cooker. This denial of emotional affect I’ve diligently practiced has led me to transform into a person who is overburdened with emotional and psychological stress that no amount of self-help books or weekly therapy can quick-fix. I have emotions. Big ones. I’m an emotional, driven, type-A, intensely passionate, and overwhelmingly sensitive soul. I’ve always also had low self-esteem and have cherished the approval I’ve seen in people’s eyes as a reaction to my overachieving momentum. I learned to bury my emotions under all sorts of addictions. I was addicted to playing the piano, dancing, theatre, studying, overworking, and smoking a pack a day. And just getting immersed deep in any activity or fixation I could get my mind obsessed with in a desperate effort not to think about my emotions. I’ve spent the past four years trying to undo the psychological and emotional damage I have consistently caused myself my entire life. Because I systematically denied myself feeling pain, sadness, anger, or grief. It took me way too long to realize that you can’t solve problems you’re unwilling to have. And by that time, I had no muscle memory in place. So I have to train my brain to process unpleasant emotions. Not to bury them. Not to rationalize them. Not to distract itself with anything and everything. But to face them, acknowledge them, embrace them, accept them, understand where they’re coming from, and eventually reach the root causes of their existence. When we try to control or eliminate our emotions, we deprive ourselves of experiencing the richness of life. We numb them all because we can’t selectively numb them. We feel it all or nothing at all. If we want a life full of deep meaning, true love, and emotional strength, it will involve the risk (and often the reality) of discomfort, conflict, and loss. It means there will be sadness, fear, anger, and disgust. If we eliminate negative emotions and experiences from our lives, we will be poorer and weaker for having done so. And the truth is, by denying myself sadness, I’ve lost joy. One of the greatest consolations of old age is that while older people have negative emotions just like the rest of us, they suffer less from them. One reason is that they have learned that although adverse events are inevitable, negative emotions are fleeting unless we choose to hang on to them. They figure out that they get a head start on feeling well not by avoiding negative emotions but by simply choosing to let them pass through them. I learned that when I resist these emotions and suppress them, I close up my heart and begin erecting inner walls within me. I pull myself into a restrictive space and hide in the darkness. I do this for one simple reason: to avoid feeling that pain again. But there lies the problem. When I fail to create for myself the space I deserve to sit with the pain of my emotions and fully feel them, I am blocking my inner flow of energy. So instead, I hold on to this pain without even realizing it. It becomes a soft, sensitive spot for me—a weakness. It becomes an unmet need—a trigger point. And anytime someone touches that or an event triggers that memory, it’ll rise instantly, and I’ll feel the pain all over again. I can’t run away from fear, anger, sadness, grief, or pain. It will simply chase me again. Running away from my emotions gives them more power —it lights them up. They become louder, clouding my sky and filling it with noise. The truth is, while we consciously work to face the darkness and attempt to free ourselves of our inner emotional traumas and pains—and while we might completely dissolve their hold on us—the scars will stay with us forever. And so we might feel them once in a while, but that's okay. Scars. They’ll always be there. But their stories are how we choose to write them. The scars are not there to hurt us or draw us back into the void. Instead, they serve to remind us of the progress and growth we’ve made. They help to remind us of how far we’ve come in our strength and transformation. They remind us of the person we consciously choose to become for ourselves and others. I’ll be riding the waves of sadness until I find joy again. I don’t know how to breathe.
Most of the time, my breathing is shallow. When I am anxious or stressed, I stop breathing. When my therapist asks me to take a slow, deep breath, she has to insist a few times until the breathing gets slower and deeper. Anxiety has always coexisted with my bipolar symptoms. After living through my first panic attack, I started seeking proper support for my mental health. I was walking down the streets of Montreal to attend a class when my heart started racing. I couldn’t breathe, and my chest hurt like a million daggers. I felt dizzy and couldn’t walk. In a torrid tango with my bipolar episodes, what ensued was a constant state of excessive worry over everyday things—personal health, work, social interactions—most days, even today, though to a much lesser extent. Sometimes in life, we are placed in demanding situations that feel out of our control. As a result, they lead to intense feelings of stress and anxiety. Although each person and each case is different, the best way to handle these negative emotions is to change the perspective through body-based techniques. Of these, breathing can be the most effective. For thousands of years, people have used the art of breathing for equally profound effects on the mind and body. Some have used it to relieve chronic pain and many more to cope with anxiety, stress, and depression. Some claim it led to spiritual enlightenment. But I’m as spiritual as a stone, so I use it to help me stay calm in a chaotic world and better appreciate everyday life's bittersweet beauty. Breathing seems so ordinary that its true significance can easily pass us by. But, unfortunately, it is so mundane that many of us have even forgotten how to breathe correctly — and this, as I found out during my anxious bipolar episodes tribulations, has vast implications for overall health and happiness. Correct breathing enhances the immune system and helps rid the body of toxins and pollutants. It calms the mind and wards off anxiety, stress, and unhappiness. And focusing on the breath with the mind’s eye is the heart of mindfulness meditation, which has been clinically proven to beat depression and enhance overall happiness, well-being, clarity of thought — and even decision-making and creativity. But there’s also a hidden — and equally important side to breathing. Your breath reflects and amplifies your emotions. So incorrect breathing can cause anxiety, stress, and even depression. It works like this: momentary stress causes the body to tense, and you begin to breathe a little more shallowly. A shallow breath lowers oxygen levels in the blood, which the brain senses as stress. Breathing then becomes a little quicker and shallower. Oxygen levels fall a little more. The heart begins to race. The brain feels a little more stressed. It’s a vicious cycle. But there is an alternative. A gently rising and falling breath stimulates the parts of the brain and nervous system responsible for creating a sense of calm tranquillity. Soothing hormones flow through the body. These quiet negative thoughts, feelings, and emotions, so you begin to breathe a little more slowly and deeply. You begin to relax. It’s a virtuous cycle. The art of breathing lies in paying attention to your breath in an extraordinary way. It’s the heart of mindfulness and as old as meditation itself. You can learn the basics in just a few minutes. However, mastering it takes somewhat longer. The art of breathing kindles a sense of wonder, awe, and curiosity — the foundations of a happier and more meaningful life. It grants you the courage to accept yourself with all of your faults and failings. To treat yourself with the kindness, empathy, and compassion that you genuinely need and help you to look outwards and embrace the world. And when you do this, you’ll start to live mindfully. I was diagnosed in 2018.
It took a few months to manage the ebbs and flows of my mind, body, and life. But it wasn’t until the pandemic began that I started to feel recovered. First, I think it’s important to define “recovery.” For me, the most realistic definition is that I’m spending more time living my life than managing bipolar disorder. I often tell people that when it comes to reaching recovery with bipolar disorder, the only important thing is that you are making consistent progress. My second piece of advice is that there is no time limit. It will take as long as it takes, but if you focus on moving forward daily, I believe everyone can get there. All of that said, it is reassuring to see progress. It’s easier to accomplish anything the second time around. It’s not about knowledge or experience, either. It’s about having the confidence of knowing you can do it. Experiencing success is a powerful motivator. My success indicators are simple things, like taking medications as prescribed, making appointments with my treatment team, and arriving on time for these appointments. While I agree these aren’t exciting, establishing this track record is much more progress than people realize. The reality is that living well with bipolar disorder means consistently doing typical everyday tasks. Many of those tasks are mundane and boring. However, it’s essential to realize that you're doing well if you are successful at life’s minutiae. Recovery from mental illness is more than just taking your meds. But unfortunately, people seem to believe that the meds did all the hard work. I agree that medication helps to settle the ‘biological chaos,’ but it doesn’t fix my problem. It doesn’t change the way I think or the way I behave. That’s still down to me. Let’s make no mistake. I would not have had any sort of stable life I have without my meds. They have helped me excel at work, maintain happy and healthy relationships, and give me back some form of sleeping pattern and partial control over my disorder. But the hard work was still mine. Recovery means staying aware of your mental health. No one knows more than you when something is off. Be brave enough to influence your treatment and advocate for yourself: speak to your doctors about what works and doesn’t. Tell your friends and family about how they can help you. Tell someone when you have a bad day. Learn your triggers and make others aware of them. Your recovery might look different from someone else’s, but it’s still bloody fantastic. Comparison is a fucking killer. We’ve all done it. Just because someone looks like they’re doing excellent doesn’t mean they are. So stay in your lane, and focus on your goals. Recovery is learning to spot your warning signs. It is not always easy to know what you are feeling, especially as it’s happening, and put it into words – but try to recognize how you are feeling and any signs that lead to you feeling unwell. It can be helpful when seeking support. Recovery is learning to put yourself first. I have left jobs and cut off friends if I believed it was affecting my mental health. You will always be your longest commitment – it is a significant relationship to have with yourself. So what if things haven’t gone the way you planned, the new way things are doesn’t match the plan you had for your life? It’s your life now, and you can make it whatever you want. Things will always be okay. Recovery is taking steps to increase your self-esteem. Believe you deserve happiness, that you matter, and that you are good enough. Take time for yourself until you feel like yourself. Move past the mistakes you’ve made. Recognize what you are good at and why you have worth. Recovery is knowing that the world is a better place with you in it. I can promise you now that no one else quite like you, and it makes the world a better place with you in it. The goal is to manage the illness in a way that allows for fewer mood swings in terms of duration and intensity. This is our success. Work on having a plan that is stronger than mood swings. |
AuthorI was born in 1986 in Lebanon. I'm still trying to find my passion in life and in the meantime I'm learning to navigate my bipolarity and redefining stability. Archives
February 2024
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