Hey hey! Once again it has been quite awhile since I have posted anything under the Being Bipolar brand. That last one came almost two years ago. And a lot has changed since then...
When last you read this space, I was still working at the South Carolina Department of Mental Health (the very first mental health department among any of the fifty states, and they're dang proud of it!). And I would still be there too, had the economy not turned so rotten. That compelled me to seek out employment that paid better. I spent two weeks at the car manufacturer near here...
...And then had to leave voluntarily. The meds I take to manage manic depression made it impossible to have the fine precision finger mobility and speed to keep up. I quickly realized that when it came to critical car components my presence was more a liability than a benefit.
After that I was at another manufacturer. I was doing really good too! And then two months into that job I was dismissed. Because they discovered that I was taking medication to manage bipolar disorder.
Well, I can't really talk about that much. There were legal proceedings and an out-of-court settlement. It ended as best as it probably could have. But that still left me unemployed.
Several months of work drought followed after that. And then I was able to sign on as a substitute teacher for a local school system. But as was reported almost a year ago that didn't last long (because ahem... I was accused of teaching high school juniors how to make high explosives).
THAT led to a job that nearly killed me. The less said about that one, the better. It was destroying me mentally, physically, but also spiritually. I was never able to attend a place of worship with others on weekends, or during the week either for that matter. My relationship with God is something that has always been precious to me, even during my worst of moments with manic depression. For those reasons and more I left the job just before my birthday this past March.
What happened after that was practically a God-send. A friend got me involved in training artificial intelligence systems. We're talking real cutting-edge stuff here. I've been able to see the AI industry from a vantage point that few get to witness. I'm now beholding all that goes into making AI work. Its good points as well as things that I don't believe computers will ever be able to surmount (I very strongly doubt that AI will come close to approximating real human thought, and that's a great comfort). I consider AI training to be my true career now, and it's solid work that employs much of my educational background and experiences.
Unfortunately there are times when there is a lull between projects. And it is during those times that I need supplementary employment.
Which brings me to where I am today. I've been able to be a part of the establishing of the first branch in this state of a respected company that is experiencing nationwide growth. I've been with the company for almost two months now and have really come to enjoy the community and camaraderie among the staff. That's all that I can probably say at the moment however. For reasons which are pretty easy to figure out.
So now we come to August 13, 2024.
I've written about having a depressive episode before, and the previous installment of Being Bipolar dealt with experiencing a manic episode. Well, since last night I have been having a mixed episode: an entirely different beast altogether. So I'm going to do my best to describe what this is like.
This morning I had to call in sick. I was nowhere in any condition to handle the tasks I regularly engage in. I probably was not even fit to drive the relatively short distance to the location. Not when I was unstoppably blinking back-and-forth between extraordinary mania and then curling up in a ball on the sofa.
This has been a day of extremes, to be mild about it.
It started yesterday evening. I felt it coming. And prayed that it would pass over. Maybe God let it be not as severe as it could have been. As severe as it was fifteen or so years ago, when I lacked the proper medication and the counseling and the tools to deal with an episode. Back when I had to be rocked here and fro by manic depression. The time in my life when I caused so much damage and destruction to relationships that I cherished so deeply with those who I loved. But that's digressing, sort of.
I sensed this coming. And braced for the storm. It could have been worse. But it was harsh enough. By 8 a.m. this morning my thoughts were racing furiously. At 9 the swings toward the opposite direction began.
It's funny. A little after 9 there was a brief respite. And I found myself inspired to post the following on Facebook:
Dear God, thank You for giving me this morning. May I have a great day today. Let others see not myself but You within me, that they might be drawn to You and You alone.
I was hoping that the day would turn out well, in spite of how it was progressing. And maybe I was trying to bargain with God: that I would surrender to Him and that in return He would make my day a blessed one after all.
It was not to be.
Ten o'clock. The mania had been roaring for some time. About this time I plummeted back into depression. It was what ever since the symptoms first began nearly a quarter century ago I have called "the Dark Fountain". Winston Churchill called depression his "Black Dog" that hounded his steps wherever he went. Mine is the Dark Fountain. When it erupts it sends dark viscous fluid seething across my neurobiology, and it takes a supreme effort to fight against those black waters or else drown in them. And it has come close to drowning me completely at times... make of that what one will.
Today around noon I could almost hear the Dark Fountain bursting forth. Could almost feel the waters creeping throughout my brain. And then it stopped for a little while. Enough to post on Facebook that I needed prayer, from whoever might be reading my words.
Several people responded, and I am very thankful that they did. I believe in prayer, now more than ever. Prayer is nothing more or less than talking with God in a personal way. He hears our prayers. He may not answer them as we would like for Him to... and trust me, I have prayed to Him many times over the past two and a half decades to relieve me of my own "thorn in the flesh" (as Paul described his own ailment). He hasn't done that. I doubt He ever will do that. Not on this side of the veil, anyway.
Maybe God needs me to have a mental illness. It's a way of keeping me humble, of having to rely upon Him, and to rely upon the prayers of others. It would be a pretty sad and miserable world if we didn't lift each other up, somehow or another. But again, I digress...
One o'clock. Two. Three. I was SERIOUSLY fluctuating. It was almost making me physically sick. I've been trying to eat healthier lately (because, hey, it's time to admit the truth: I'm no longer in college and it's way past time that I start eating like a responsible adult, so no more frozen pizza for awhile) and later on a friend suggested that maybe this episode was triggered by my turning to healthier food TOO suddenly. I suppose it's possible. There can be any number of triggers of a manic or depressive (or both) episode. Sometimes there's no apparent trigger at all: they just happen. I mention this now, just openly wondering if the change in diet is what precipitated this latest bought with bipolar disorder.
And then, almost as suddenly as it began... the episode stopped.
Well, it was more of a tapering off. Fortunately that occurred quicker than an episode usually does. I could literally feel the episode coming on and now I could feel it abating. Like a hurricane that passes over a beach, the rain decreasing until there is a measure of peace.
The episode was over.
Cost to me: a day's lost wages. And I needed that work.
The alternative however, would have potentially been much worse.
This is what it is to have a mental illness. But the good news is that it is controllable, to some considerable extent.
I no longer believe that I'm too dangerous to be with others. Including colleagues on the job, wherever that may be. Nor do I believe that I would be too dangerous to be in a relationship with someone, if God were to ever bring a woman into my life (and I would never cease to be thankful to Him for that if He did).
I'm not the person who I was a decade and a half ago. I think about the Chris Knight who existed then, who was struggling to fight against his own mind and losing that battle ever more with seemingly each passing day. That Chris is long gone and in his place is the Chris who was always meant to be here. Someone who can love and be loved. Who is a hard worker, without depression being a regular hindrance. Someone who isn't going to go out on eBay one night and buy two hundred dollars of LEGO models, just because he saw The LEGO Movie and decided he needed to recreate those characters on his desk.
It's not a perfect life. But it never will be, for any of us. We each have our burden to bear. Sometimes it's just more apparent than others. I should be thankful, about mine. I've never turned to drugs or drink to make myself not feel numbness incarnate or to stifle the excess energies. I've never been homeless. I've been blessed with a wonderful support system of people who sincerely care about me, just as I care about them. When I was in southern California I got to see many people who were not so fortunate. They were obviously mentally ill, had no permanent places to sleep at night, whose meager belongings fit inside grocery carts that were no doubt stolen from supermarkets.
In a different reality, that could have been me.
I'm not thankful enough. To God or to the people He has put into my life.
I truly hope that someday I can make amends with the people who I have hurt, which stemmed from this disease.
That is the true burden of bipolar disorder that I bear.
Maybe God can make that be so.
He has done miracles before. He can do it again.
