Roar! It’s 2009! Let’s talk bipolar, or, as Sophie calls it, the Polar Bear Disease that Vincent Van Gogh Had and Mommy Has Except Mommy Hasn’t Cut Off Her Ears Yet.
Let’s talk about it, because it’s worth talking about. Because chances are, you know someone who struggles with it, but you may not know he or she is struggling with it. Unlike other diseases, bipolar disorder is an embarrassing pain in the tuchas to explain. And 2009 seems like a good year for enlightened discussion and opportunities for compassion, so let’s go for it.
The Polar Bear Disease is not for the faint of heart. But first, let me tell you a story about a real polar bear. Once upon a time, not too long ago, a baby polar bear named Knute was orphaned by his mother at the Berlin Zoo (am I the only person who reads this stuff?). Predictably, he became the beau of the ball, a gorgeous, curious little cotton ball with shiny black eyes. A zookeeper moved into Knute’s pen to feed him, snuggle him, wrestle with him. Crowds of thousands came to the zoo to worship adorable, clever, sweet Knute. Hundreds of them went home and posted YouTube videos. Knute was a superstar.
Until he got bigger. And bigger. And bigger.
It wasn’t his fault he got bigger. It’s just what polar bears do. But for safety reasons, his beloved zookeeper was eventually no longer permitted inside Knute’s pen.
You can imagine that poor Knute was pretty devastated, losing his surrogate mama. Crowds waned to a trickle. Who comes to see a depressed, dirty teenage polar bear? Not many, my friends, not many.
Last time I checked, they were trying to find a mate for Knute. I picture her saying, Knute, you’ve got some real issues, and I don’t think it’s wise to bring more polar bears into this zoo until you deal with your depression, baby.
Now let’s talk humans. Bipolar disorder (and there are at least two versions—Bipolar Lite and Bipolar Stout—and a few more that doctors squabble over) is frequently found in some pretty interesting folks. When things are under control, they’re often people who are creative and agile with language and art or whatever it is they care about. They are often passionate, perceptive, empathetic, charismatic. Knutes of the human world. Aw! Cute!
One example: You wondered why you loved Carrie Fisher in Star Wars and When Harry Met Sally. She’s fab, and she’s also got bipolar disorder (also known as manic-depression, yeah, take your pick) and she’s quite vocal about it, which is terrific.
With cancer—a dreadful, terrifying disease if there ever was one—the goal is to make it go away, or at the very least, send it into remission. The aim is to become a cancer survivor. Amen to that.
Bipolar disorder is a different beast. It doesn’t go away, and it can worsen with time. Bipolar disorder (especially Bipolar 1—Bipolar Stout—which is my variety) can be absolutely deadly. The suicide rate for Bipolar 1 with mixed state (crippling depression combined with frightening mania and overwhelming anxiety) is very high. Right now, the goal is to manage bipolar disorder, because it’s a chronic disease with no cure. Sometimes, the meds help the Bipolar Bear regain equilibrium. Sometimes, the meds stop working, inexplicably, and it’s back to Square One.
Bummed-out, messed-up, dirty Knutes. Man, why can’t Knute get it together? Everybody suffers a little heartache now and then. Deal with it, Knute!
Alas, my friends: Bipolar disorder, in its acute form, can rob a human bipolar bear of any coping abilities whatsoever. This is difficult to explain to friends and family, because aside from a dirty house and a disheveled appearance and maybe an empty fridge, you still look, you know, like…you.
In its small, cute, fluffy form, bipolar disorder is often tucked away behind flair and smarts and curiosity and quirkiness. It’s manageable.
But it grows. And once it grows, it’s a lot harder to handle. Few are brave enough to want to get into a pen with it.
But that’s what human Bipolar Bears need—brave souls willing to get in the pen with them, to believe them when they say, My God, what’s happening to me, I don’t remember doing this, doing that, where was I? Where am I now? I don’t remember the last time I shopped or ate, I don’t think I can make it, I took the wrong meds, I threw up my meds, remind me why I need meds? Because I don’t remember.
It’s called bipolar because the mind swings viciously between despair and mania. The lows are so low as to be life-threatening. The highs are also life-threatening, if not medicated, because the intensity of the highs can cause the Bipolar Bear to act rashly and make dangerous choices.
The trick of this balancing act? Is to recognize that there will never be a true separation of the illness from oneself. Bipolar disorder allows for appreciation of humanity in all of its startling gorgeousness and devastation. How one manages the onslaught of perception…this is no small feat, and will never be.
I am Bipolar Bear. Hear me roar.
{ 42 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow.
I am so glad you wrote this. Here’s to an endangered species! Here’s to you, my lovely and courageous daughter!
What a great post, thanks for sharing and explaining in regular people terms.
Jenn, thank you for writing this. It is a wonderful analogy and a wonderful reflection on the hidden diseases like bipolar.
Love it. Love you.
You are wonderful. I wish I knew you in person, not just “virtually.” I would get in the pen with you.
I know some about the illness (uncles, church friends, school friends…), enough to know that you have explained it very well. I’d encourage you to get this published—I think it would be very helpful to other people.
Keep roaring,
-JJ
I hope you realize how many people on BOTH sides of BiPolar Bear Disease you are helping with your words.
Through all your posts about this disease, you have given me the insight to understand what my husband’s brother, also a BiPolar Bear, deals with on a daily basis. This is something not one of his family members has been able to accurately do.
Keep roaring, I’ll be listening and absorbing.
Wow. This is a very cogent explanation of what is, obviously, a very complicated issue. Thanks for helping me understand a bit better – and please know, as someone who’s been reading you here for quite a while, I am willing to get into the pit – even when it’s uncomfortable and scary.
Once upon a time..polar bears may have been scary.
But now they are loved from near to far. Dirty, disheveled and hungry? Meh….bring it on baby.
Thanks for giving us the key to the cage Jenn. We will visit often and bring fresh seal meat.
With respect for your amazing ability to describe the seemingly indescribable.
Cindi
jenny, i’m in the pen for as long as you’ll have me.
Thanks for that. I think you may have just shown a little light on my life.
Jenn, thanks so much for shedding some light on this. I have at least three people in my family who’ve been diagnosed as bipolar but I have never truly understood it other than in simple terms: up one minute/down in the dumps the next. I have a newfound respect for their battle and yours. Hang in there.
I truly believe my younger sister suffers from the disorder. But she refuses to acknowledge it, and my parents pretend she’s fine. She’s had some issues lately, and has talked about wishing she were dead. It scares me and I’ve tried to talk to her and my family about it, but everyone is in denial and they look at me like I’m not sane.
I just don’t know what to do to help her, but maybe if I direct her toward this post it will help.
Thank you for writing this.
To say I am impressed that you linked polar bears to bipolar disorder is an understatement. I’ve been quietly following your blog for a while. Your writing is amazing.
I think many of us are willing to get in the pen, if we only knew what to do.
Beautiful post.
You do magical things with words …
Thanks for shining your light so we can all see a little bit clearer.
To a year of “enlightened discussion and opportunities for compassion!”
I love you for writing this. My best friend’s brother lives with this illness. It is devastating, as is all mental illness. It is also deeply misunderstood, which makes it even more crushing for people who suffer from it and for their family’s. I want to pass this along to every person I know.
By the way,I am addicted to your site. Ever since I found it I check it constantly. Keep writing. You are so gifted and your writing is amazing.
That was a wonderfully written post. Thanks for making us a little more aware of those around us. It’s my first time visiting your blog. I ran across it on Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda’s blog. I love your blog name!
-FringeGirl
Hey you. If there was a way I could climb into that cage with you, I would. Honest. I hope you’ll let us in if you can.
Jenn, you are simply amazing! I thought I understood bipolar disease because my best friend growing up, her mom had it. It was quite an experience to sleep over there. But, the way you describe this makes so much sense. You are so brave and have helped countless people! To be understood, and to understand. I hope only good things for you!
I am all teary eyed. I wish I could thank the person who got into the pen with me years ago, but I subsequently drove him away, without really understanding why I was doing it.
i hope you meet many people brave enough to climb into your cage with you.
Hey there…thanks for sharing. Sounds scary….you are brave to fight this thing head on. Hugs to you.
You have so effectively related what you are experiencing. I am in awe.
Speaking of, Carrie Fisher recently was on “The View” talking about her experience with electro-therapy treatment and how it helped her.
Though I cannot fully express my respect for you, for your courage and willingness to share, please know that you and your loved ones are in my prayers.
From down here inside the pen, my sincere thanks.
My comment is so unoriginal, but, “Wow.” Just wow.
Ok, more than just wow. Jenn, I’d proudly join you in your pen any day. I am awfully glad that this Internet thingy introduced me to your blog.
Keep roaring, Jenn. We’re listening.
xoxoxoxoxo
I knew a lot about this disorder, but what I didn’t know is that it gets worse with time. That is an important fact.
My college roommate suffers from this. Proximity to a supportive and eagle eyed family, a very good doctor, and to the twin anchors of darling niece and nephew have kept her well thus far. I have never personally struggled with a mental illness, and I was very easily frustrated by her while we were still in college (I didn’t know her diagnosis then.) The ten years that have passed since have brought me more understanding, if not the ability to figure out what to do. I guess nothing. Nothing is what I can do, except be there? You give me a window into her. Thank you. I am so glad you talk about this.
What a post.
Just as an aside… I saw Knute in June – he is a total attention whore and the darling of the public. Kind of sad, he should be floating around on an iceberg somewhere.
This was so clear and interesting to read. Also, bipolar sounds DREADFUL. So why am I left feeling like you’re totally adorable? Look at your beautiful shiny black eyes!
Ohhh. Someone I loved passionately but could not live with has this Bear Thing. I pray for her a lot and I’m not a prayer. For you, too, in my clumsy secular fashion. It isn’t fair.
No, it doesn’t “go away” but you can keep it at bay some of the time. Jenn is missing the girls; the holidays are over; the tree and lights still add an evening glow.
Yesterday, Sunday, she knew her limits and asked for my help. I came over in the afternoon and cleaned out the fridge, tidied the kitchen and recycled all the gift boxes/cartons from Christmas. She was upstairs sorting clothes and doing laundry. In between, we met on the sofa to watch NFL Football and our home team, the Eagles. She really got into the game with me and we laughed a lot and I think I actually taught her some football rules! AND THE EAGLES WON! Pizza to eat; house in order. Mouse poop (minuscule) was from last year’s droppings.
Life is good.
Now that Jenn has come out of hibernation and roaring about … I want to also add my tuppence. If you have a family member or friend with BP, please make sure that someone is monitoring their daily meds carefully. It seems to really help ease their minds and yours if you know that all necessary prescriptions are in one secure place and organized. I went to the drugstore and bought plastic pill containers – bought two of the weekly variety, two different colors. Once a week, I come and place all her morning and evening doses in the containers and she is set. While doing this, I watch the pills left and tell her if she needs a renewal on a certain drug, etc.
Careful self maintenance is so important but a loving hand in the weekly sorting relieves an already tired and overloaded mind.
Roar.
Roar Mater….
xoxoxoxo
Cindi Roooooooaaaaarrrrrrrr
Though I paid (more) attention (than most) in health class and was supposedly educated about the Bipolar Bear and it’s ways, I feel this really got to the point in a more memorable way. Kudos for your courage and determination, Jenn.
I just recently learned about bipolar disease from a book titled, “Life is Like a Line” written by Cynthia Sabotka.
This book really helped me understand the disease, but I really love how you explain it as well.
I’ll add my “wow” to the others. Good job, Jenn.
I thought the most poignant line was near the end:
“The trick of this balancing act? Is to recognize that there will never be a true separation of the illness from oneself.”
This is true for all of us who love people with mental illnesses. When the brain is in the middle of the disease, there is no separation.
My prayers are in the cage with you.
What a enlightening analogy. As someone already said, your ability to describe the indescribable (bipolar bear, sprint mothering) is truly awe-some.
There just aren’t enough of us normalizing this illness for people-glad to see this, and in such a concise “layman” way. Sadly, I think there is still just too much people will never, ever understand, and it sucks.
I’m not the sum of my parts, or my brain. I hope.
Oh Jenn, I had no idea. I wish you mostly good days and have tears in my heart and eyes for you. You were always on of my favorites of George’s friends and I am glad you are still friends on facebook. Glad your mom is with you too. Stay well and take my love.
I just read Carrie Fisher’s book Wishful Drinking, and I remembered you’d mentioned her so I came back and re-read this post. It’s such a good one. And I do love Carrie Fisher.
thanks ive been living in that cage like that polar bear for so long its hard to come out when so many people is afraid of you but sometimes it takes a special thought or a special someone to say its ok go in the places thats save to go first. Then take baby steps up the ladder to suceed.In closing I will give comments life experiences but I will not go to far in the crowd where I will get lost or donate money or anything online I wish not to.