When someone else is living your dream…

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My idea of my ultimate “dream life” has changed many times throughout the years. When I was a kid, my biggest dream was to become a succesful author. I was gonna write my first book by the age of 18, take a long education, get married to a wonderful man in my late twenties- early thirties, have two children – a girl and a boy – and live in a nice house with a backyard, with a view of the sea, and have a dog. Even though I was scared of dogs until I was around 17, I was that into this dream of mine. I don’t remember foreseeing any issues with this dream coming true. Except from finding the wonderful man part; I was never popular growing up, and boys didn’t really pay positive attention to me until high school.

That dream stuck with me for many, many years. It wasn’t challenged until the depressions started, and only challenged for real when I got together with Miki, my old boyfriend, whom I met at university. He was very against marriage and having children – that was definitely not on his vision board. Adding to that, when I was diagnosed with bipolar, and told that statistically there is a 10% chance you pass it on to your child, I decided that I was not going to have kids, ever. Except I go by the rule of “never say never,” meaning that I am not all knowing, and there is no way I could ever predict whether I’d meet someone one day that might change my mind.

When I was in high school, I slowly stopped writing creatively. There was so much school work, so many papers, and, just like it happened with painting and drawing, it kinda slipped away from me. It’s like anything else that needs practice; if you stop practicing, eventually you’re no longer good. And I was good, very good, if I may say so myself. This felt like a big defeat for me. This was my dream! I was supposed to have written my first book by the age of 18! Why couldn’t I just write that damn book??? Why was I not published yet?

I knew a girl who’d had a novel published (partially paid for publication herself), and it was so bad. It was as if no editor had even glanced at it. And she’d built it up for so long, done so much advertising, being a “16-year-old publishing her first book!” And I read it. And I had such a hard time getting through it. Mutual friends who hadn’t read it yet thought I was exaggerating, assuming I was just jealous. Then they read it. And apologized to me.

How… how did that crap get published for all to read? How? I could have written something ten times as good!

Only problem was, I didn’t. I didn’t write a book. And, to this day, at the age of 27, I still haven’t.

Bipolar changed me, as it would anyone. Not just mentally, but also physically. I’m spending time and energy just getting by a lot of the time, trying to make sense of life, trying my best to stay stable and optimistic. Concentration is hard. Motivation, not really there. I kind of know what I want to do – no, not kinda, I know. I want to be an editor. I want to read manuscripts and choose the good ones and edit them. And I want to be a private tutor. That’s what I want to do. Yet, I don’t feel ready to pursue these things.

Last week, I discovered something. An old friend of mine is basically living my dream. I haven’t had any contact with him for years, but we have a mutual friend who told me about how he’s been doing. So, he’s not yet 30, has a child with his girlfriend (!), has written and published 6 novels (!), has had a ton of short stories published in different anthologies, and he translates novels for a living. Oh, and he writes poetry and occasionally peforms spoken word.

I was shook.

I couldn’t believe it. Here I am, with no money to my name, no publications (except a few short stories from when I did a writers course in 2008 and another in 2009,) no marriage, no house, no children, no dog, no job, and have been on sick leave for more than a year now. And he’s out there, living the life I was supposed to have. I felt like a complete failure.

Then I had to check myself. Because he and I are not the same. Our stories are not the same. Our struggles and succeses in life cannot and should not be compared or measured against each other. My priorities are not the same as his. I’m so not ready for kids or marriage. I’ve probably had hundreds of amazing experiences that he hasn’t; I’ve been to places he has not, both mentally and physically. We live in the same world, but we are living very different lives and have taken very different paths. Our paths are not meant to be similar.

I might write a book one day, and I might not. I don’t know what the future holds for me. What I do know is this: I am where I am because this is where life, decisions – good and bad, events, and experiences have lead me. I am where I am, and all I can do is continue to move forwards, evolve, and try to find a path that brings meaning and a sense of purpose to my life. I’m creating new dreams now.

There’s no point in getting stuck and holding on to past aspirations that no longer apply to me. Things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would – and that’s absolutely fine.

Why structure is vital when you have bipolar

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In the midst of the chaos that has shaken up my life recently, I’m still working hard to keep even just a basic level of structure in my every-day life. Structure, stability, and routines are some of the core strategies for keeping bipolar under control. It’s probably the most recommended strategy I’ve been given by specialists and therapists, and whereever you read about treatment, it’s there. It’s quite obvious why; when you have bipolar, the goal of most – if not all – treatments are to remain stable, avoiding the highs and the lows that can essentially destroy you. However, when your surroundings are incredibly unstable and chaotic, it makes it very difficult to remain any kind of structure. This continues to be one of my biggest struggles.

I have now been on sick leave for more than a year, which is so strange to think about. It’s surreal for me that it’s been a year and a half since I finished my BA, and that I haven’t had a paid job since… well, fall 2015, I suppose. I finished an internship while studying, and am currently doing another internship, as I’ve talked about in previous posts. I’m on a break this month, though, and starting again in August.

This internship is part of something called “jobafklaringsforløb”, which is the next step of a sick leave if your doctor, after about six months, can’t conclude that you will be able to return to the work force within a certain time period. My psychiatrist obviously couldn’t do that, so the job centre decided to put me in “jobafklaring” instead. It basically means that we (my team and case worker) have to figure out how much I’m able to work, and what kind of work I’m able to do. So doing an internship is meant to test my limits. So far, because of everything that has happened, it hasn’t been possible for me to truly spend time and effort on this process. Hopefully that will change when I start again in August.

My disorder has affected my cognitive skills significantly. Every other person with bipolar that I have met have similar problems. I can’t concentrate for very long, and my memory has gotten worse (it was already pretty bad to begin with; the disorder and the meds have just made it a lot worse). One of the causes of bipolar has to do with brain chemistry, and that will affect certain parts of your brain, one example being the amygdala.

The amygdala is responsible for the perception of emotions such as anger, fear, and sadness, as well as the controlling of aggression. The amygdala helps to store memories of events and emotions so that an individual may be able to recognize similar events in the future. For example, if you have ever suffered a dog bite, then the amygdalae may help in processing that event and, therefore, increase your fear or alertness around dogs. The size of the amygdala is positively correlated with increased aggression and physical behavior.

The amygdala in humans also plays a role in sexual activity and libido, or sex drive.

Source

As well as the hippocampus:

The researchers discovered that the study participants with bipolar disorder had volume reduction in certain parts of their hippocampus. The portion of the tail, two cellular layers, and subfield 4 of the cornu ammonis all displayed lower volumes. The reduced volume was more pronounced in subjects with bipolar I disorder than those with other mood disorders.

Additionally, the researchers found that patients with bipolar I disorder displayed lower volumes of certain hippocampus areas the longer the period of their illness became. Volumes of other CA areas and hippocampal tail, on the other hand, decreased more in subjects with more manic episodes.

The entirety of the study can be found in the journal Molecular Psychiatry.

Source

Another researcher specifies it this way:

The bipolar states of mania and depression have a clear impact on cognitive function. The clinical criteria for mania include distractibility, inappropriate speech and behavior, increased goal-directed behavior, and a tendency to make decisions associated with potential painful consequences.¹ The depressive state is also characterized by cognitive changes, including a lack of concentration, difficulty making decisions, motor slowing, and changes in memory.

Source

On top of all this, adding medication into the mix can, in addition to help control the chemistry in the brain, also contribute to further screwing with your cognitive skills. In my case, as previously mentioned, bipolar has had an immense effect on my cognitive abilities. I used to devour volumes and volumes of books, concentrating for hours on end. Now I can barely get through a chapter of a novel without feeling distracted and unfocused. I can barely get through an episode of a tv-series without checking my phone. I can manage to read a blog post or watch a short YouTube video without pausing, but if the video is more than 6-8 minutes long, more often than not I find myself clicking pause, and either move on to another video or checking my e-mail, Facebook etc.

Memory, however, is probably my biggest issue. I have to keep a very detailed daily calender that I often have to check in order to recall what I did just the other day. I’d always bring it to therapy sessions when we were to talk about how I had been doing, and what I had been up to. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to remember half of it.

My calendar plays a significant role when trying to create structure in my life. It sort of keeps me grounded in a way, helping me keep track of where I’m supposed to be and when. It’s gotten to the point where I have to check it many times a day, yet there are times where I still mess up times and dates. Luckily, I always end up being super early, which is much better than showing up late for important appointments, such as meetings with my case worker, practitioners, etc.

Since I don’t have a regular job, only going to my internship 2-3 times a week for 2-3 hours per day, I struggle to create steady routines. An example could be getting up in the morning. If I don’t have something that requires me to get up at the same time every day, like I would if I had a full-time job, it’s hard to get up. I do my best to schedule appointments early in the day when I’m able to choose the time myself, like physiotherapy and therapy sessions with my psychiatrist. When my case worker asks what time in the day that would work best for me, I always try to get in as early as I can.

On the days where I don’t have official/medical appointments or internship, I try to meet up with friends or family, or spend hours doing chores, like cleaning or doing laundry. However, filling out my days is quite a challenge for me.

Do any of you experience the same struggles, and do you have any other strategies to share? I don’t have a dog that needs walks, or a garden to tend to. Other suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

Hope you’ve had a wonderful weekend. Ciao!

My little slice of heaven

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So I’ve read through my four latest blog posts, and I gotta admit, they’re a bit all over the place. But I guess that was just a reflection of how I was doing during that time.

I’m currently house- and dog-sitting in Kolding, a city in Jutland, the mainland of Denmark. The family is on holiday in Italy, and I’m their go-to sitter. I don’t know if I’ve talked about this family before – I don’t think so – but it’s a nice story, so here we go (I’ll try to keep it short):

In March, 2009, I got my first real boyfriend. His name was Philip, and he lived in Kolding, so it was long-distance. I think I met his family a week or two after we became an item, and we all clicked immediately. It’s important to note that I was having a really hard time at home back then. I’d travel all around the country on the weekends, visiting friends, having a wonderful time while escaping the realities of home. Philip’s family became a second family to me, and their home my refuge. I even got my first real job, just so I could pay for the train tickets to get there!

Soon after I met them, they got a dog – a small Formula 1 labrador named Zika. I was with them when they picked her up at a parking lot somewhere, from owners who could no longer take care of her or something. Now, I’ve always been scared of dogs, ever since I was a little kid. Terrified, even of puppies. Zika was around 1 year old when we got her, as far as I remember. And I had to face my fears. Turned out Zika was to become one of my favorite beings on this entire planet. She is sweet, caring, loving, cuddly… everything you’d want in a dog. As I recall, she was quite patient with me, even though she was still just a puppy. Zika got me over my fear of dogs. She’s THAT good. She’s an older lady now, and just as lovely as ever. Less energy, but can still run around and play with her friend Eidis, a beautiful white, fluffy dog, who’s only 1½ years old. So she’s still pretty fresh!!

Zika and me. Look at her cute little gray hairs, hehe. 

Anyway. Philip and I broke up after about 1 year (first love, first massive heartbreak), but I desperately did not want to lose his family. I wrote them a letter, saying that, as they probably knew by then, Philip and I were no longer together, but I hoped I could still visit them from time to time, because they meant so much to me. Hanne, Philip’s mom, sent me a letter back, saying that they had kind of seen it coming, and they were very sad. And that of course I would always be welcome.

Ten years later, and I still visit them 2-3 times a year. It’s become a tradition that I house- and dog-sit every summer when they go on holiday. So, here I am, sitting at their dining room table, with a dog lying on the floor behind me, and two guinea pigs ruffling about in their cage in the corner of the room. (This summer includes taking care of their two guinea pigs – some of their other friends sometimes take care of them.)

That is the story. Short intermission while I take my meds.

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Phew, there we go. It’s always difficult to keep your medicine schedule when you’re on holiday. Change in routine and all that. I always take my meds with breakfast, but I tend to forget when on holiday, because breakfast sometimes becomes one with lunch, or I get distracted by the dog, or have to feed the guinea pigs, etc. Thus, I’m trying to keep my meds close to my laptop, as I’ll obviously be on my laptop at some point. That’s my trick to remembering.

Did I say something about my latests posts being a bit all over the place? I think this one can be added to the list.

I’m having a really nice time, not counting the occasional migraines. (Even have a bit of a headache as I’m writing this, ugh). Nick was here for the weekend, and it was just perfect. I hated having to say goodbye to him Sunday afternoon, but he had to go back to work. I’m enjoying my time here, but am also looking forward to be home with him again.

My days basically look like this:

I take Zika for 3 walks every day. One in the morning, afternoon, and evening. I feed her and the guinea pigs. I watch YouTube, Netflix, play Minecraft, read… yes, I’m actually reading!!! 😀 I’ve just started chapter 9 of Michelle Obama’s Becoming. It’s good.

Yeah… that’s kinda it. It’s pretty wonderful. I might have a friend come visit tomorrow, though! If everything works out, she’ll be here from late afternoon tomorrow until Thursday evening. Fun!

I might go into town today and have a look in a charity shop that had some really nice things when I was here last summer. Otherwise nothing on the agenda!

It’s sooo good to get away from everything for a while. I definitely needed this.

 

Guess that’s all for this post. Thanks for reading and/or listening!