Just as I have a habit of putting many things off, I have unfortunately put off writing this blog for quite some time now. If anyone who may be reading this didn’t know, I am now employed for the first time since starting the blog. I began working in downtown Springfield at a company called Stentel with a title of property estimator a couple weeks ago. I won’t be getting into detail with that as that is not the real topic of this particular post, but if anyone feels like finding out more, they can ask me about it and I will be happy to discuss it. I will say it has been going pretty well so far.
For this post, I felt like talking about my journey so far since my mom died. Well, really a little before that. It is something I have been wanting to write about for a while, but as I said, I have been putting it off, telling myself I will do it soon. This journey is particularly important to me since it deals with when my Bipolar disorder, which I was officially diagnosed with in November of last year, really began to take shape.
Soon before my mom died, and especially right after, I went into a phase that could be described as being on the lower end of manic. I developed an intense passion for singing, thinking I was going to sail off into the sunset as a professional singer and be set for life without ever really dealing with my mom’s death. My love for music didn’t necessarily come out of nowhere, as I had years before been called a human top 40 jukebox, but the idea that I was going to be a professional singer was one that caused concern amongst family and friends. It became quite an obsession, where I would stay up all night oftentimes or close to it, singing or watching music videos/ interviews of musicians. As many know, I wrote songs and posted singing clips on Instagram, thinking that would catapult me to a career as some but very few had done. I would brush off any comments or concern others had, saying that it didn’t really come out of nowhere and I was fine. However, looking back, it did take off quite rapidly after singing just once in front of a small crowd of a few friends at a bonfire.
I could go on for a long time about this phase, but really to condense it, it went on for months and the bottom line is I never actually dealt with my mom’s death. Inevitably, I was setting myself up for a crash, although I didn’t really know it when I was going through that phase.
On came the depression, as quickly and seemingly out of nowhere as the manic phase. I can’t really point to a specific event that brought on the depression. All I know is that it hit really hard. I stopped singing altogether and was really down in the doldrums. Things I loved before like sports, I no longer cared for at all. I was living life, but wasn’t really there. Again for months, this phase lasted. Contrary to my more outgoing self during the manic phase, I was withdrawn during the depression. People would call, but I wouldn’t answer. I wouldn’t respond to text messages most of the time. Most days, I didn’t really do anything productive at all, wallowing in my misery. Of course, this again caused concern from family and friends. This time, I knew something was wrong, but as much as I knew that, it was seemingly impossible to bring myself to do anything to change what was happening despite countless suggestions from family and friends. Soon, however, and again seemingly out of nowhere, another manic phase would come.
Perhaps it was already building up, but I can point to seeing Halsey, my favorite singer, last August at Madison Square Garden as a real turning point and possibly a catalyst for the mania. It was a sweltering day, with temperatures reaching the high 90’s. I had been outside at the Yankees game all day, which kind of exhausted me, but I remember even then not really feeling like I belonged there, not feeling like I belonged anywhere in fact. During the concert, however, I started to feel hope again. I can’t really describe it fully, but there is something about being in a crowd of thousands of people who love the same artist you do that brings out a feeling of euphoria. Coupled with the fact that she has Bipolar herself and has battled anxiety and depression, even going through a suicidal phase, I felt like I had a great connection to her. I remember walking out of that concert and seeing the bright city lights of New York. I felt hope again, like life was breathed back into me. It was like a movie.
This set off a period of only a couple months where I went to a ton of concerts and sporting events, culminating with a trip to California on a whim, soon spending all the money I had. Yes, I did literally spend everything I had and at one point went into the negative by a few cents. Again, I didn’t see how dangerous and really sometimes reckless my behavior was. Citing things such as “well I’m not staying up all night or drinking this time”, I had convinced myself I was fine, even great, adopting a me vs. the world mentality. Soon enough, this came to a head, where there was a night family members ended up getting through to me. After I adamantly and quite loudly disagreed for a little while, I finally agreed to think about seeing a psychiatrist.
Soon, I did see a psychiatrist and began taking medications. As some may recall, I made a post back in November about having Bipolar and taking Lithium, a mood stabilizer I am no longer taking due to medical issues it caused. It was a way for me to own the bipolar at that time, and this is a way for me really to work through and in some ways make sense of it all. However, I am still taking another mood stabilizer and anti-depressants, to try to prevent another period of depression from occurring. Right now, I feel pretty decent about where my life is, working full time for the first time in a while and realizing the value of actually saving money and not getting caught up in going to as many events as possible. Really, those events were a distraction for me, but not the remedy by themselves. The cycle of mania and depression has for the time being been broken, as since probably November really, I have not been too high or too low.
If you have made it through this post, thank you. I really appreciate anyone who reads the blog. Hopefully, anyone who read this can possibly get something out of it and know that adopting the mentality of fighting the world as I did doesn’t really work out. Although I certainly would never want anyone to go through the experiences I have, I hope this may be of help to some who are battling or have battled anything like depression, anxiety, Bipolar, or loss of a loved one dear to them. Until next time, which will hopefully be sooner than the last.