About

My name is Elaine. Welcome to my blog!

 

Here I share about a lifelong journey to expand my inner peace, knowledge, and breadth of experiences. So far, I’ve already taken many interesting rides, and am on a most interesting new one now, having just moved from the US to Europe. I try to appreciate aspects of each day, despite living with bipolar affective disorder. Though my mental illness has been a part of my life, it’s not the entirety of it. 

 

Here I describe some of my life’s journeys, adventures, and lessons learned along the way. There are also several articles that focus on bipolar disorder and co-occurring mental health challenges.

 

Much of this blog’s contents previously appeared at https://www.birdflight.blog The Bird Flight blog is now primarily focused on travel and culinary topics. I’m quite proud of the contents on this new blog, whose posts sadly lost all “likes” during the transfer, and most all its followers. In 2019, Bird Flight blog was recognized among the Top 10 Bipolar Disorder Blogs by My Therapy. 

Finally feeling freed from the memory of my first depression

I did something, a bit ago, that I feel quite good about. I’ll mention it in the form of a story, for anyone who wishes to read it.

When I was 16 years old, I had just experienced the first severe depression of my life. I nearly flunked the year at school because I skipped many days, hiding secretly at home. When it was realized, I was more punished and scolded, than comforted…for feeling so ill. Some of what triggered the depression had to do with ballet, and my seemingly squashed dreams of becoming a serious ballet dancer. The rest was just the inevitable onset of a disorder destined to show itself, anyway.

Trauma from years of severe bipolar disorder episodes

This morning, I just read a bphope.com blog post by Melody Moezzi entitled “Bipolar & Hospitalization – When Treatment Is Traumatic“. I found it addressed a significant topic that I’ve heard/read others discuss in the past. However, when hearing/reading such stories, I think back to some of my many hospitalizations. I, too, was literally dragged into isolation rooms and given injections. I was, at times, so sick that a hospital security staff member had to follow me around the ward for a couple days and watch me shower. However, unlike Melody’s (and some others’) experiences, when looking back, I found that it was even more my actual bipolar illness that left me with trauma. I don’t deny the trauma Melody writes about, or even that trauma can’t trigger bipolar disorder (I definitely know that), but feel that trauma, from the illness, is too inadequately discussed.

Many forms of communication can give psychological relief

The bird speaks, sings, dances, writes, and flies.

I talk out loud to myself all of the time. I even do so in public, sometimes. What I say seems interesting to me, but maybe it wouldn’t to others. Often I just say odd-ball random things, or repeat phrases or make odd noises. Just yesterday, my hubby came into the bedroom from his office asking who I was talking to. I just told him not to worry and that I was talking to myself and to “Go back into your office and leave me be!” And only 20 minutes ago, I was in his office with him and started to talk to myself again. He became annoyed and told me to be quiet (he was working), so I just went to my bedroom and shut the door, and began talking to myself again, happily.

Why I accept and value treatment for my bipolar disorder

Without proper treatment and efforts for wellness…

My bipolar manic behavior can become ‘out of control” and “scary”. It has led to the end of numerous relationships, prevented relationships, got me fired or threatened to be fired, made me quit jobs, affected my job performance, made me lose money, made me put my well-being at risk (in many ways), led to cops being called (and other times almost called), caused me extreme embarrassment and guilt after-the-fact, hurt and/or scared people I love/like, put my life and others’ in jeopardy, caused me some trauma…

Directions to find stress relief

Too much stress to handle, so I may hide or freeze.
Or go on a mental “vacation”, to bring myself some ease.

Flower Bouquet #4 of 4 – Things happen for a reason

To read Part 1, click here.

To read Parts 2 & 3, click here.

I remained college roommates with my friend Liz until her graduation, one year ahead of mine. In my sophomore year (her junior), I lived with her and two of our friends in a campus apartment. It wasn’t long before I realized that I preferred dorm life. I felt frustrated with the apartment arrangement for various reasons, but mostly because it seemed isolating. Something else might have happened, or not, but I grew very depressed. That year, I had the second worst depression to that date, after one I had at 15. I couldn’t leave my room, at times, and therefore missed many classes. I mostly stopped eating. I was paralyzed! I went from getting all A’s and B’s to getting mostly C’s and a D, one semester. I dropped out of two classes, decreasing my credit load to 12, the minimum required to stay in campus housing. But the depression eventually passed. Not slowly, but quite suddenly.

Flower Bouquets #2 & #3 – Bipolar mania and lack of empathy

To read Part 1, click here.

Major changes in life are stressful for anyone, but especially for people prone to, or with, bipolar disorder. My freshman year at college was, indeed, stressful. Even the positive stuff! Like many young college students, I did a lot of partying my first year. There were so many young people on the many campuses of the huge university I attended. So many activities! The city itself was far larger than my small hometown of three thousand, requiring buses to go from campus to campus. As a boarding student, I was away from folks long-term for the first time, caring for myself completely. My classes were intensive and the study environment was far different than I was used to. If there was ever a large trigger for a bipolar episode, this was it!

Grief

Sometimes, now, I wonder if your love for me was a mirage or some kind of wishful thinking on my part. Or were the last several years truly a very slow cancerous death, or progressing dementia, and with it, the death of love and true concern for those who truly love you?

A bipolar disorder irritability story. Not even a severe one. Won’t even go there!

I thought I was doing fairly well today, mood-wise, until I went to the grocery store. Well, maybe I started to get unwell towards the end of my conversation with my sister. She didn’t say anything to trigger it. I totally brought it on myself. I was not angry at her at all, but more fuming about other people (politicians, certain organizations, etc.). Then I asked my brother to come over for dinner tomorrow, in exchange for some handyman advice. He accepted, so then I realized I needed some groceries in order to make him a nice meal. So I set out for the grocery store. Then the “irritability” started to balloon.