Unpredictable Variables

Every fitness journey has unpredictable variables that disrupt the flow, toss you off track, derail you and distract you; kind of like cosmic monkey wrenches flung from left field to completely muck up the works. Sometimes it's illness or an old injury acting up, an unexpected project at work, or if you have kids - well, kids themselves are little walking monkey wrenches. Either way, we all have them.

The primary unpredictable variable along my journey is bipolar disorder.

I was diagnosed in 2000 at age 29, but I've had it since my adolescent years. Best guess is that all of the trauma from 1998 kicked it into full gear - and with a vengeance. From my diagnosis in July of 2000 until September of 2006, I endured the unique hell that is psychotropic medication side effects. I reached a point where I chose to embrace my disorder rather than try to bury it under a chemical cocktail and for me, that's working. It got to a point where I had to make the decision that I would rather feel crazy than feel nothing at all, because those medications numb your very soul.

Learning to function with bipolar rather than quelch it is kind if like padding around with a restless tiger on a ribbon. I have bipolar II - which means the depressive cycles are worse than the manic ones. Over the years, my cycles have become fairly predictable, with pretty much the same indicators each time a new cycle begins. (Up, down, and 'normal'... But who's really to say what's normal?) Being aware and in tune with myself and how my mind works has helped me learn how to ride out the waves, as well as diet, exercise, and keeping my life as steady and predictable as possible. Keeping all of  these things in line helps keep me fairly stable. Of course, I don't always keep that tiger under control but for the most part I function and cope and live my life.

I refuse to feel ashamed or embarrassed or stigmatized. I consider bipolar disorder to be a dash of exotic seasoning that makes me a little more interesting. There are positives to each cycle. When I'm riding the vivid waves of mania I'm creative, and funny, and I can clean a house like nobody's business! When the quiet blanket of melancholy wraps around me I become introspective and poetic; emotional and connected to the world in ways I can't even explain. Either way, up or down; I feel so much more alive. I will never, ever take any type of medication to cage this tiger again. To do so forces me to disavow a part of my very identity.

The downside of course, is how the cycles disrupt my routine. Hence it being a variable. Mania isn't an issue, while manic I can skate until the cows came home if I wanted to - and then skate with the cows! It's the depressive side that wields the monkey wrench. I feel fatigue leaching down into my very bones; like my blood is molasses. Things that are usually simple become a struggle. I stop caring and sink down inside of myself; down into places where I can hide from the world. It's frustrating, but it's also temporary. Knowing this always helps me ride it out.

Right around the end of September or the beginning of October, that blanket settles down around my shoulders. The delicious rush of mania subsides, and I grow still and contemplative. I write crappy poetry and reflect upon the world. I fill page after page of my journal with my upcoming plans; but most of all - I patiently wait. In March or April, when the days start getting a little longer and a little warmer; the blanket lifts and the cycle starts all over again. Each year it gets a little easier; maybe it's just because the tiger is getting older? ;)