Pax Nortona – A Blog by Joel Sax
From the Land of the Lost Blunderbuss
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Category: Mania
This new country: ADD
Posted on January 29, 2015 in ADD Mania Psychotropics
I seem to accrue more and more diagnoses to cover my symptoms.
Colors
Posted on April 4, 2014 in Encounters Mania Therapy
“There are certain difficult things that I need to do,” I told my therapist, “but I can’t do them now because I would enjoy them just too much.”
PTSD and Bipolar: Vampires in the Warehouse
Posted on March 17, 2014 in Encounters Mania PTSD Stigma
“You’re controlling me,” he shot back. “I’m the facilitator of this group,” I replied. “I’m supposed to do that.”
Guilt vs. Shame: Torture vs. Tool
Posted on April 19, 2013 in Guilt Mania Therapy
I don’t think the answer is feeling guilty but part of my recovery has been to feel a proper amount of shame for the demonic releases that I perpetrated while I was high on my illness.
Gun Addiction
Posted on January 17, 2013 in Addictions Mania Violence
Alex Jones and others like him require some time in rehab.
Accountability and Loss of Memory
Posted on January 3, 2013 in Accountability Mania
I’ve seen many people in bipolar support groups counsel the newly diagnosed not to feel shame for things they did while they were in episode: it was the disease that did it, not them is the reasoning. This cleaving of the self, I think, does not help us get a handle on the illness and its effects on others in our life. In fact, it strikes me as downright irresponsible: you never have to make amends ((I have heard from some that making amends has nothing to do with apologizing. By some warped logic, it means for some trying to avoid the full impact of our illness nothing more than admitting to yourself what you did without making restitution or apology to those we harmed while addicted or in the throes of mental illness. I find this cheap recovery and I am suspicious of anyone who flaunts it.)) for anything you did.
Too often, I have seen people who say this to themselves relapse repeatedly. Perhaps it is due to the fact that they do not understand the seriousness of their disorder. Or maybe they desire license to act on impulses that they would reject on moral grounds if they were in their better minds ((Families might find it better for their sanity to forgive things done in episode for the sake of their sanity while expecting the patient who now knows better to take proper steps to minimize further recurrences.))
I take a different approach: I am responsible for my actions even when I do not remember them. Because of my denial of my illness, I harmed others. Therefore I either make peace with them or avoid them so they are not disturbed or shocked by my return to their lives.
But there is a bonus: because I am accountable, I get to own the good things I did with more resolve. I get to own the steps I have taken towards resilience ((I believe that one cannot recover from mental illness. What one can do is do a number of things such as taking one’s meds, exercise, cognitive reform, etc. to lessen the frequency of my episodes and decrease their intensity.)).
Here is the grim truth: if I do not take ownership of the bad things I did while in episode, I cannot own the good things I accomplished. To claim otherwise invokes a socipathy that case workers and other mental health practitioners best not encourage.
Odd Logic by the Anti-Medication Crowd
Posted on August 15, 2011 in Mania Psychotropics
The anti-medication crowd among us bipolars sounds off in a strident voice. Medications, they tell us, are little more than an attempt by the pharmaceuticals industry to enslave us. According to them, psychotropics kill us and prevent us from experiencing the full impact of our glorious emotions ((Fuck you, [[Thomas Szasz]].)) . Psychiatrists are predators who don’t know how to cure people, only get them addicted.
Sometimes, their arguments betray a certain loss of reality as does this gem from a comment by an anti-med proponent:
Consider for example: “Drugs Work” because “We Tried Drug X on patient Y” and “Effect Z happened in response to Drug X tried on patient Y” and “We Liked What We Saw” and “We Are The Sole Arbiters Of What We Like” therefore “We are Right” and “We Know What We Are Doing” and “Drug X has effect Z” and “People like patient Y need Drug X” and “We Can Supply Drug X” so “Patient Y should get Drug X from us on a perpetual basis” is not explicitly circular, but if you try to complete the logical dependencies, logical circularities will result or else the explanation will grow out of control. Any thoughts on this kind of thinking?
Did you follow that? Later, when the talk turns to statistics:
[C]onsider these: 100% of dead people who have taken medication have died. 0% of living people who have not taken medication have died. Living people who have been given medication may die, and almost certainly will. So, based on these statistics, should we be offering medication?
This writer thinks he has hit on a profundity. I think it illustrates the tragic loss of rationality that can afflict us in mania.
The Scary Guy Defense
Posted on April 25, 2011 in Depression Fear Mania Stigma
A friend of mine who is a mental health professional in Germany and I often watch a certain social media site for signs of distress among the denizens. Recently, I dropped her a note about one fellow who struck me as being on the proverbial roller coaster. She shuddered when she checked him out and told me that she was sure that he was going to be explosive.
All this causes me to look back at my own behavior when I was in extremis. The world looks as if it is always about to teeter and dump you and anyone close by into a pit. Some people find this fascinating. They hover around you, watching you as you rant and rave about your unsteadiness and the threat the world poses toward you. They are often nice people, kind people. You think they don’t know you, they can’t possibly know you. And their proximity adds to your sense of [[Koyaanitsqatsi]]. ((In Hopi: “crazy life, life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living”))
They laugh at your jokes. They find you interesting. The edge of an episode cleaves your consciousness. You are beginning to repeat yourself. What can you do to right things again so that you can resume stability? The problem, your troubled mind jumps to conclude without reasoning, is that you are dangerous. So you have to show them that you are genuinely and truly mad. You launch into what is called the Scary Guy Defense.
Thanks to your mania or mixed state, you have already emitted a series of cues that suggest you are losing it. You raise your voice. You shake. You wave your arms. Words pour out of your mouth at an erratic pace. The lids of your eyes roll back and the orbits bulge out. The euphoria squares your shoulders and tenses every muscle sliding across every bone in your body. A terrible strength props you up. And it seems fit to exaggerate these symptoms because you want people to run away, because nothing scares you more than the prospect of your body flipping blindly about and striking one of the gentle ones. You pull on a monster mask because you don’t want to hurt anyone. ((One time I got into an email exchange with a Berkeley student who shared my interest in [[Stephen Sondheim]]. With each long letter, I felt encroached upon. So I suggested she come down to Palo Alto to have a threesome with my wife. It worked. She never contacted me again.))
Arguing with the God Within
Posted on April 9, 2011 in Agnosticism Depression Mania Myths & Mysticism
For the depressed and the anxious, the silence of God is a scream.
Walking the Flat Track
Posted on April 3, 2011 in Mania Morals & Ethics Stigma
Guilt is the mainstay of some of us who struggle with bipolar disorder. I saw my mind disintegrate during the nineties.
Vitamin D and the Cold Blue Funks
Posted on March 26, 2011 in Depression Glands Mania Medications
My endocrinologist tapped a few keys and brought up my latest bloodwork. She pursed her lips as she scanned the numbers. My [[triglycerides]] were too high, so she upped my [[Lipofen]]. Everything else was within proper balances. Except at the bottom of her study: my [[Vitamin D]] levels were excruciatingly low.
I asked her what that meant.
“We don’t know a lot about how it works,” she admitted. “We do know that when it is low you can feel tired and depressed.” I had just confessed to these symptoms a few minutes before, so the result explained the torment of my winter.
Some people, she explained, had trouble producing enough Vitamin D from sunlight. The amount that they use to fortify milk didn’t suffice. I spent the winter taking walk after walk in the bright sunlight, but I wasn’t producing.
So the cure was a megadose of the food supplement. It came in an emerald softgel about the size of my little fingernail that I have to ingest once a week.
The role of Vitamin D in depression is not confirmed at this time, but a recent study out of Great Britain suggests that low vitamin D levels are associated with melancholy, “independent of age, sex, social class, physical health status, and season.” This finding remains controversial because other symptoms of Vitamin D deficiency such as heart problems might in themselves lead to depression.
What I can say about this is that since taking Vitamin D, I have begun to smile again — genuine smiles rather than the forced grins that civility demands. The glow of my exercise sessions last beyond an hour or two and it is far less hard to get them started. Other depression sufferers report similar results.
The one thought that troubles me is whether the symptoms of depression that I have felt all these years is nothing more than a symptom of this deficiency. But then there is the question of the mania: This can happen when there is too much Vitamin D in the system. Are my mood stabilizers the wrong treatment? I do not remember changing my habits in advance of the surges of energy. So I shall work with my psychiatrist, remembering that for the bipolar the body is an explosion and a fire that rages and ebbs.
Jammed Lens and its Aftermath
Posted on July 27, 2010 in Anxiety Mania Photography
Last week had its difficulties. I dropped my new camera on the Harding Trail and jammed the zoom lens. The ring allowing me to move between focal lengths wouldn’t turn below 35mm. The autofocus motor whined without acting. Upper Modjeska Canyon heard my yells of frustration. In my solitude, I shouted at uncomfortable memories, the kind of behavior you expected of the homeless. The rest of us, including me, kept to the confines of our homes, lonely trails, and the interior of our cars when driving places. I marked it an evil day.
The following day I marked some troubling signs on my dailybooth account:
I’m feeling on the edge of an episode, perhaps a manic rather than a depressive one.The signs are varied, but lately I have noticed these:
1.) Light-headedness or the feeling that my head is going to explode.
2.) Increasingly late and troubled sleep.
3.) A fascination with bright colors like the red of stoplights or brake lights. They just seem more vivid — a warning sign.
4.) An impatience with people whose faults I would ordinarily forgive or ignore.
5.) Being confused about what day it is.
The next few days may reveal more symptoms or these may subside. If the urges grow too strong and I can’t contain my impulsivity, it may be time to surrender the credit cards to my wife and stay close to home.
It’s more than take the meds or meditate or exercise or eat right — I do all these things. The main thing is to steel myself to ride it out: it could be over in a few days or a few weeks. I just have to hold fast to my rational state of mind, to let my logical, compassionate being take charge while my emotions seethe. ((Several people commented with encouragement. I posted a link to What helps, what hurts to assist them in talking to people going through the stress of an episode.))
I wondered if I should push people away, keep to a strict solitude. A particularly aggressive woman on dailybooth (or so she was magnified in my head) irritated me to the point that I sent her a private message asking her to leave me alone. “I’ll ignore you,” I said. “Please ignore me.” ((I don’t like aggressive women. But then I don’t like aggressive men either. One of my problems when I was younger was that I kept looking for a passive woman who would make the first move. I settled for one who was more assertive.)) She acquiesced.
Subsequent days brought me peace. I sent the lens out for an estimate and stopped taking photos with any kind of device until my rage settled. The mania rose and subsided. In my journal I noted “Anxiety is the root.”
