It's Been Awhile

I have not written on this blog for two years. Maybe you are wondering where I’ve been. It’s difficult for me to write about this in a public forum, but as many of you know, I have Bipolar Disorder, and approximately two years ago, I had a manic episode. The reason I’m sharing this is that I would like to destigmatize this for myself. I need this more than you know. I have spent the last two years healing. 

Crazy is considered an almost humorous term, and insane is definitely more intense. What if I told you there were times when I was both crazy and insane? Yeah, like coocoo for coco puffs. I’m not messing around here, I lost my marbles, which is such a random phrase that connotes that you’ve lost your mind. Marbles huh? What will they come up with next? I feel like the next logical step would be to say, “I’ve lost my press-on nails!”

Why am I making jokes? Because if I can’t laugh at myself, all I’m going to do is cry. I have not been on this blog for two years because I have shame for the things I said, did, and thought when I was sick. It might have been a mental sickness, but it was still a sickness.  I’m ashamed of something that is literally not my fault and was not in my control, yet there it is again, the shame. The stigma of having a mental illness. The whispers, the laughs, she’s in a loony bin again. 

I support that, I was in a loony bin. And let me tell you about loony bins, they are so godamn interesting I didn’t know what to do with myself. There were people in there crazier than me, saner than me, and we bonded. I made friends, like for real, like the kind you make at sleepaway camp. And sometimes the kind of friends you make in jail. There were prostitutes and drug dealers and all kinds of people with all kinds of pasts, and we all sat at the same table and broke bread. Homeless people, filthy rich princesses, I felt like the whole town was inside there with me. Mentally Ill people are so fascinating, whether they are lucid or delusional or a little of both, they crack me up, they make me smile, and they make me think. There was joy in that hospital; we sang, we danced, we painted. Art was one of our saviours. But you know who the biggest savior was? Each other, we saved each other. We just talked, mostly we were just shooting the shit. But to be heard, to be seen, that is what we needed. To have community and friendship, that kind of love is what helped heal me in the hospital.   

Insanity attacks you at the core of who you are, your very being, and your mind is no longer your own. Western Medicine says it’s a chemical imbalance, in some cultures, they think spirits have taken hold of you, and they treat mentally ill people like shamans or gurus. I’m a teacher and a professor, I’m not a shaman or a guru. But maybe, just maybe, there are secrets about life and the universe that those who drop reality and choose their imaginations can understand. Maybe it’s something that might be of some interest to those of you who are generally sane. I say generally because who hasn’t gone ‘crazy’ at one point or another over the course of a lifetime. I have felt highs that ‘normal’ people have never felt and lows that only I know about. Maybe this ability to feel things otherworldly is a spiritual condition, maybe it’s a superpower, maybe it’s not just a mental illness.

Looking at your mind in the mirror

What you see, is it the real thing?

Basically, the reason I had the episode is because I had a medication change that didn’t agree with me and triggered it. It was that simple, and that complex. There was no magical cause and no magical solution. 

Bipolar Disorder, sometimes called Manic Depression, is very challenging to treat. The medication cocktails are so unique to the individual; what works for one human does not necessarily work for another. I say human instead of person because this disease can take away your humanity, it can strip away your real self, and leave your mind in a state of utter chaos.

That’s what happened to me. And this is not the first time it has happened to me. Rather than go over my entire history with Bipolar Disorder, I would rather focus on this last episode because it happened after many, many years since I was diagnosed, and I was so sure this would not happen again. I was wrong. 

The truth of the matter is that it can happen again. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I’m well, but something like severe stress or just the tragedy of being alive can trigger a manic episode. Of course, this is frightening, but it is my reality. 

To make a long story short, I lost my mind. I mean, I truly lost it. I wasn’t myself; I was having severe delusions and wild mood swings. I was hospitalized, but that did not completely solve the problem. I thought I was on the Nina Show, a reality show starring me, and there were secret cameras hidden all around me. I thought I was telepathically speaking to my friends and other people, like celebrities. Apparently, Steavie Nicks and I are not as close as I thought we were.

I haven’t written in a while…I forgot how cleansing it is, like my soul taking a bath. It’s almost like I’m nervous that I’ll misinterpret my thoughts, even though they are my thoughts! I’ve had a long time to think. I’ve had a long time to think about thinking.

This hiatus from writing was not something I planned; I just couldn’t do it. I was so ashamed of some of the crazy crap I had written that I didn’t know what to do.  

But I know now what to do. I will hold my head up high. I’m proud of myself for going through such a difficult time and making it through, surviving. But it’s not only surviving, after all this shit went down, I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with my real self. And I am a better, kinder, more loving, more compassionate person now than I was two years ago. 

I don’t know why it is, but many times, ugly experiences make you prettier. Look, I don’t have much money, a husband, kids, or a stable career. But you know what I do have? A beautiful mind and a beautiful soul. And for me, I’m going to call that winning. 


nina

Nina Uppal