Let’s face it, living with bipolar disorder has had a huge influence on the way I make decisions. It hasn’t been all bad, I admit the impulsivity I tend to feel has left a trail of both exciting fun memories in my wake as well as some cringe-worthy ones, but I’ve spent a lot of time considering impulsivity and the ways it has both helped and harmed me.
Instead, today I want to specifically discuss making big moves.
For a long time I believed that I only made impulsive big, life altering decisions when I found myself experiencing hypomania and mania. This was evident when I dropped out of college, for example, at age 19. The idea of living aimlessly in the Colorado sprawl seemed like a wonderful idea, and it was great… for a while.
Likewise mixed episodes have lent themselves to impulsive big moves as well. Spur of the moment breakups would be an example, running away from home. Usually these kinds of big decisions have been fueled by the need to escape something (rather than make a positive change in my life) and the results have tended to be regrettable when I returned to rationality.
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot more about how that overwhelming impulsive urge influences depression, because for most of my life I would say I didn’t think it did. I mean, is sitting down and watching a full season of Ru Paul’s Drag Race because I’m too tired and depressed to do anything else a big impulsive move? Yeah… I didn’t think so.
Lately I’ve been seeing it a bit different. Maybe it is the nature of the depression I face, maybe it is a little mixed and coming with a small paper cup full of mania to act as a dipping sauce. Whatever the reason I’ve been able to hone in on this feeling, this urge to make a big move, and somewhere inside of me there is this spark that says,
If you make a big, sudden change in your life this depression with disappear.
To be fair, I’ve been doing this all along. In my younger years I found myself in some kind of Job-Hopping Phenomenon loop that I tried my best to grasp but couldn’t understand.
I would start a new job, be doing fine, and then start sinking into deep depression. The answer always seemed to involve quitting and starting a new job, where my hypomania would take over and I would feel great for a while until… you guessed it… wash, rinse, repeat.
For the most part I always chalked this job-switching thing to be coming from a place of reason though, not emotion. I told myself, “well, maybe this isn’t the right job for me,” and I’d launch myself out into the world feeling a sense of purpose every time I tried to find a new one. It kind of acted as a really inefficient, W2 swamping sort of band aid.
I didn’t connect the dots between these actions and that general bipolar big move urge until this month. I’ve been declining into depression for almost two months now, swiftly and severely enough for my psychiatrist to be on red alert (more on that next time). Honestly I think what I am experiencing may be a depression-heavy mixed episode because I’ve found myself in several swirling pools of psychosis where I seem to find myself in another place.
While I’m there everything is turned on its head, the only consistent element is that I feel overwhelmingly compelled to make a big move!
Sometimes the urge is to run away and start a new life, or get a job, or demolish my relationships with people… but every time the haze wears off I’ve been thankful to find I haven’t done any of those things.
With my manic and mixed episodes I feel like I have had the opportunity to practice not making those big moves I find myself gravitating toward. I’ve tried to remind myself of how horribly wrong they tend to go sometimes, and how what I am experiencing at the time is typically in the minority of how I feel otherwise.
The last few years my treatment resistant symptoms have left me experiencing severe depression without much alleviation, so much so that the only thing I could do was binge watch Ru Paul’s Drag Race. I feel like that might be what is causing me to hesitate when I fall into those whirlpools that try to bully me into mixing things up, because now I know that even when I do nothing at all I can make it out the other side.
In the grand scheme of things, I often picture bipolar disorder as a set of scales. I used to chuck whatever blocks I could find at them knowing that if one landed, they would flip my emotional state into the opposite direction and I could slide from depression into mania almost immediately. This crude method was effective short-term, but didn’t set up any kind of system for long-term stability.
The last few years I have been learning to scale down those moves when the urges hit. Instead of running away, maybe I’ll take a shower. Instead of getting a job, I assign myself to take out the garbage every Monday and see if I can consistently do it. Instead of destroying my relationships I turn on the Xbox and funnel my aggression into some kind of PvP deathmatch.
Instead of chucking those big blocks at the scales it is more like I am adding single grains of rice. While there is a kind of tension that comes from refusing the big move beast the satisfaction of an impulsive remix, I’m finally understanding that I can come closer to making those scales balanced by making little moves than I ever did with the big ones.