The Rugged Path to Stability

I’ve never been a morning person. If my schedule allowed, I would sleep in until noon and stay up until 4 AM every day. So I knew something was wrong when I started waking up before 6 AM full of energy. I was still going to bed late, but waking up super early with the energy to take my dog on a long walk, or cook a meal to eat later for dinner. I was involved in a drag community where I often went to shows and sometimes even performed. I attended a lot of drag shows at bars during this time and I wasn’t getting enough sleep. I started having racing thoughts where I would choreograph drag routines in my head. The images were so vivid; I felt like I could actually hear the music and lyrics. I had a crush that became an obsession that caused behavior I am embarrassed to admit to today, behavior that was not normal for me. I knew I must be experiencing hypomania— and even though I knew alcohol was likely making it worse, I kept drinking.

About thirteen years before this hypomanic episode, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (type 2) at sixteen years old. This was after my first psychiatric hospitalization due to suicidal ideation. Simultaneously, I was questioning and discovering my gender identity and sexual orientation — I came out as transgender and queer during this time of crisis. My medications were changed to mood stabilizers, as a way to treat bipolar disorder instead of what I was previously diagnosed with: major depressive disorder. I continued to have deep depression and was hospitalized two other times in 2004 for suicidal ideation.

Two years later, I started medically transitioning with testosterone and surgery. This brought happiness that I hadn’t experienced in a long time, and I thought it was possible that I didn’t have bipolar. I ended up weaning off my psychiatric medication on my own without being monitored by a psychiatrist. About a year later, I started experiencing symptoms of a very low depressive episode. I was working at a part-time job, and my bus route stopped at the Golden Gate Bridge. The thoughts I often had on my way to work— about getting off the bus and jumping off the bridge— scared me. I had to remember that with bipolar disorder, it is an imbalance in my brain that I will likely have for life. I decided to start medications again. However, I didn’t feel like any medications truly helped me. From ages 19 to 28, I alternated between being on medication— trying different ones and different doses— and being off them completely.

For a while, drinking became my self-medication for depression, hypomania, and social anxiety. I was not myself when intoxicated, and found myself apologizing for things I wouldn’t have done if I was sober. Sometimes for things I didn’t even remember doing. I had some traumatic experiences while intoxicated, I knew that drinking was only making my mental health worse. I would stop drinking when getting back on my medications. I even tried being on medication while drinking, but nothing ever helped. I tried getting sober on my own, without any program or support, but I always end up drinking again.

This was when the worst hypomanic episode of my life started. At first it was nice to have extra energy and be out having fun all the time, but it eventually ended up being too much and lasting too long. I felt too anxious at home, I always needed to be on the go. My brain would never settle down. I saw a psychiatrist who prescribed me a medication that made me so sedated I couldn’t even stay awake while walking to the bus stop. I decided to give up on psychiatric medication again and went off it. This hypomanic episode turned into a depression so bad I knew I wasn’t going to make it much longer if I didn’t reach out for help and make changes in my self-care. I quit drinking and decided to look into going on medication again. I went on an antidepressant, but my depression got even worse. All I did was work, eat, and sleep. And even if I slept for 12 hours, I was still exhausted and couldn’t think or make decisions. I ended up taking a leave of absence from work and was in a two-week outpatient psychiatric program. Thirteen years after being diagnosed as bipolar, I was finally prescribed a combination of medications that was really helping. Being sober and on the right medication has helped tremendously with my bipolar and anxiety.

I’ve gone through a lot of issues since starting these medications and getting sober, especially when it comes to employment and my physical health. But I really believe I wouldn’t have survived if I had stayed off medication and continued drinking. Even on medication, episodes will come and go, but I am more prepared for them than I ever have been before. Although it can be difficult, I can remember that I will not always feel the way I do in that moment. My history shows that episodes have gone away before, and they will go away again. This has become easier the more times I’ve practiced it. I was laid off from a job last year without any notice. This, naturally, triggered my depression and anxiety but I kept going to support groups and therapy. I did not let it stop me from doing what I needed to do to apply and interview to find a new job.

I remind myself that these episodes of depression will not last forever. Knowing that helps me get through it. I can battle these episodes before they get too bad with the skills I have learned and the toolbox I’ve built for myself. These tools include Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, and ones I learned in recovery programs. In Alcoholics Anonymous, I learned how important it is to let resentments go. In Refuge Recovery I found that not only meditation can calm me, but focusing on my breath can help me as well. In SMART (Self-Management and Recovery Training), I found exercises I can do to prevent relapse and identify/reframe my thought distortions.

All my life experiences make up the person I am today, and I wouldn’t change any of them, even if granted one wish.