By Fermina Ponce
Thinking in terms of bipolar disorder is complex because it involves accepting a condition in
which many components are at play, such as memory, sleep, weight, sexuality, judgment,
behavior, and mental clarity, among others.
I am not bipolar; I have bipolar disorder. One does not cease to be a human being because of a
mental health condition; they remain the same, except now they need professional help to address the mental aspect, just as professional attention is needed for conditions like hypertension or
diabetes, for example.
In the Hispanic community mental health is not discussed within families, let alone in public, as
dirty laundry is supposed to be kept at home. What nonsense! I wish more of us would dare to
normalize the conversation; surely, we would help many to finally speak about everything that
lies in the midst of this silence, about everything that comes between the throat and the heart.
Yes, that which makes our days gloomy, empty, dissonant. Yes, that which gnaws at our skin and
makes sweat sting our backs. Yes, mental health conditions.
I remember my maternal grandmother, who would wake up singing like a nightingale on so
many days, and on others, she seemed like a torrential downpour of tears, crying without
knowing why, or perhaps knowing but unable to express it. Sometimes, I believed it was because
of my grandfather's abandonment, so many years ago. But now, knowing my illness, I would
dare say she lived with depression and abrupt mood swings. Obviously, she was never
diagnosed. Poor grandmother, how much she must have suffered in silence.
The World Health Organization tells us that 280 million people suffer from depression, and it is
50% more common in women than in men. More than 700,000 people die by suicide each year,
and it is the fourth leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 29. Numbers don't lie, they
say, and these statistics are powerful indicators that debunk the idea that mental health conditions are just inventions of the idle. They are so real that they can cause death.
I remember when I was first diagnosed, many well-meaning people (I don't doubt it) would send
me messages: think positively, be optimistic about life, engage in things you enjoy, be grateful,
look at all the blessings you have in life, as if all that would correct the chemical imbalance in
my head. I have never given up on gratitude, but it's very hard to see those blessings when our
vision is clouded. It's impossible to see through a pair of broken glasses. I don't know if I'm
explaining myself.
This is not intended to be a lecture. I just want to say that normalizing conversations about
mental health should be imperative in families, schools, corporations. Everywhere should talk
about it, just as we talk about cancer, arthritis, allergies. Mental illnesses are silent, but they have
symptoms, and if they are not treated properly, they can lead to fatal outcomes.
So, what is bipolar disorder? According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), bipolar
disorder is a chronic illness characterized by abrupt changes in mood, energy, and the ability to
think clearly. It used to be known as manic depression or manic-depressive illness. People with
bipolar disorder experience high and low moods, known as mania and depression, which differ
from the typical emotional changes that people experience. "(...) bipolar disorder is a genetic
disorder that involves the neurotransmitters dopamine and norepinephrine." "(...) symptoms
typically worsen if left untreated. However, with a structured lifestyle that includes self-control
and a good treatment plan, many people live well with this condition. Although bipolar disorder
can occur at any time in life, the average age of onset is 25 years. Each year, 2.9% of the U.S.
population is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and about 83% of cases are classified as severe.
Bipolar disorder affects men and women equally."
For a long time, I have been in crisis, with long episodes ranging from hypomania to sometimes
mania and depression. It wasn't until a year and a half ago that I found a balance, especially in
recent months. As I write this, I am under the care of Dr. F. He not only oversees my medications
but also provides the therapeutic aspect, which is vital. Seems like we just had Christmas, and it
was the first time in many years that I was able to take care of the festivities entirely, from
buying gifts, sending them, decorating the house, and making various Christmas dishes. This
would have been a monumental task for me months ago; it would have caused me stress, anxiety,
and a depressive crisis. I cannot remember the last time I did it all; usually, my husband took care
of the chores of the season, and I barely decorated the house to give it a bit of Christmas spirit.
I have lived in the hell of bipolar disorder for a long time, on that roller coaster that makes life
intense but inconsistent. However, today I can speak of a balanced life in which the keyword is
recovery. Recovery does not mean the absence of the disease but the ability to live with it in a
controlled manner, where mood swings have a smaller gap between them, making emotions less
abrupt and more akin to how they are managed by a person without a mental health condition.
Reaching a state of recovery is not easy, but with the support of a therapist, medications, and
positive changes in the environment, it becomes possible, because the last thing to be lost is
hope.
コメント