Welcome to the Jungle, Revised Edition. Hilary T. Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ community wants to call it, you're still you—whether you have bipolar, hysteria, a wandering womb, or just plain sand madness. Everybody else changes their mind about what to call it, so there's no reason why you can't too. Don't think “bipolar” is an accurate description of your experience? How about Chronic Sleep Taxationitis or Acute Porn Star Overidentification Syndrome? No matter what you call it, no matter how you think about it, no matter how you treat it, you're a person—not a collection of symptoms or an entry in the DSM-V (the hefty diagnostic manual produced by the American Psychiatric Association that you've probably seen lurking under your psychiatrist's desk). Nothing can change that. Don't dwell on whether or not “bipolar” is the perfect way of describing your condition; actually, dwell as much as you'd like, but do consider whether the solutions available for bipolar are helpful for you.

      And in the year 2037, when they yank “bipolar” from the DSM-XXIV and replace it with “Intergalactic Hypersensitivity Disorder,” you can go through the whole ride all over again (“Intergalactic Hypersensitivity Disorder—it explains everything about me, man . . . now pass the nanoprobes!”)

      Life is long, and your understanding of yourself (not to mention your family, your culture, and your weird roommate Sun Man) can and should evolve over time. It's OK to go through many stages with your thoughts and feelings about bipolar disorder. Who knows—in the course of your wanderings, you might just hit on something useful or wise.

      WHY DO I HAVE BIPOLAR?

      WHY DID I GET BIPOLAR?

      This is a really, really great question, and you'll get a lot of different answers depending on who you ask:

      Psychiatrist: “You have bipolar because you have bipolar genes and your brain chemistry is out of whack.”

      Anti-psychiatrist: “The whole ‘brain chemistry’ thing has no proven scientific basis, and it's mostly a play by the pharmaceutical industry and the American Psychiatric Association to get more and more people on meds.”

      Sociologist: “You were diagnosed with bipolar because you come from a certain socioeconomic class and a certain culture, you live in a certain society at a certain time, and the beliefs of your society cause people like you to be labeled ‘bipolar.’”

      Therapist: “You had a traumatic childhood, as did your parents and grandparents, and it was easier for society to label you as ‘mentally ill’ than to take responsibility and address the root causes of your ongoing distress.”

      Ecopsychologist: “We have poisoned the earth, deleted meaningful social roles, and broken down tribal and family structures. Of course you're freaking out. And of course they're going to blame it on your ‘brain chemistry.’”

      Scientist: “No really, it's totally genes and brain chemistry. We've studied the hell out of this shit. Don't listen to those hippies.”

      As you can see, there are a lot of different opinions about what constitutes ‘bipolar disorder’ and what causes ‘it’ to manifest in a given person. And you can find intelligent, reasonable, highly qualified people to argue every one of those positions.

      As far as I'm concerned, there is at least a grain of truth in all of these arguments—they're not necessarily mutually exclusive. The pattern we call bipolar seems to have a genetic component and a trauma component and a social component and a cultural component and an environmental component, and—sure, why not?—an astrological component and a yogic component and a Star Wars use-the-force component and who knows what else.

      My point in bringing all this up is not to sow unnecessary confusion or to undermine any particular group's point of view. On the contrary: I think the more angles from which you approach your own mental health, the better. If you attribute all your ill-health to brain chemistry and treat it with only medication, you might neglect to address your physical health, your emotional life, your relationships, your beliefs, and other factors that have a very real impact on your overall wellness. If you attribute all your ill-health to social and environmental factors, and treat it with only lifestyle changes and talk therapy, you may have your progress interrupted by a manic episode that could have been easily prevented with a touch of lithium.

      Every person is different, and every person diagnosed with bipolar is different. Sometimes I wonder if the thing we call bipolar has different causes for different people: if some people have “classic” bipolar, which is truly genetic, neurochemical, and lifelong, and some people have more of a situational bipolar disorder—a response to chaotic surroundings, housing instability, poor coping skills, or trauma, which is more environmental than genetic in nature. This could account for why some people with bipolar ardently praise medication, and some people also diagnosed with bipolar seem to do better with therapy, meditation and lifestyle changes. Of course, there are also those people who seem to do best with both!

      People who have been diagnosed with bipolar always have a certain narrative about how it developed: “I'd just gotten my first job and my first girlfriend, my parents divorced, and I started going crazy.” “I was staying up late, listening to a lot of Marilyn Manson, and shit just started getting weirder and weirder.” For one thing, humans love to tell stories. It makes much more sense to place bipolar disorder in the context of certain events, rather than having it come out of nowhere. Though the environmental triggers of bipolar disorder are not well understood, one thing many accounts have in common is a period of lifestyle change, stress, or major life events (both positive and negative). Real specific, huh? Try naming a time in your teens and twenties when you're not going through a period of stress, lifestyle change, or major life events!

      In other cultures, narratives of mental illness sometimes focus on spiritual matters (“he is being haunted by ghosts!”) or family relations rather than biochemistry. Our Western narrative might be scientifically accurate, but it is not necessarily the most useful or compassionate way of imagining mental illness. If “haunted by ghosts” feels more meaningful and accurate to you than “haunted by misbehaving neurotransmitters,” then please, tell your own story!

      Otherwise, it's you against the mothership. Lock and load, lock and load. . . .

      EIGHT WAYS TO PROVE YOU DON'T HAVE BIPOLAR

      1 Keep a straight face and neutral affect at all times. This will demonstrate how completely stable your mood is.

      2 Whenever you hear something about bipolar disorder on the news, laugh loudly and say, “Ho, ho, ho, I'm so perfectly twitterpated to not be affected by such a foreign and fearsome affliction as that!”

      3 Paint rabbit faces on your meds so they look like recreational drugs. Wear furry clothing and plastic beads so people think you're a raver.

      4 When you get hospitalized, tell everyone you know you're an “investigative journalist” doing an exposé of what it's “really like” to be hospitalized.

      5 Hire a look-alike to impersonate you at social events when you're too depressed to go out.

      6 Surround yourself with people who are more extreme than you (drama students, nonrecovering addicts, circus people). In contrast, you will look totally un-bipolar.

      7 Start a fake blog about your completely normal, nonbipolar life. Include entries such as, “Fun day at the mall!” and “New kitty is cute!”

      8 Get a high-powered career that could never be held by a person with a mental СКАЧАТЬ