Learning to Accept Life with Bipolar Two as a Black Woman
Like millions of Americans, I live with bipolar disorder. Most people think this equates to dramatic mood swings. However, I have come to discover that this condition is nuanced and complex. I live with bipolar two disorder. This is different from the classic bipolar disorder most are familiar with. Because this is a relatively new disease, there isn’t enough information available to help those who suffer with it.
I share my story in the hope that other Black women will not have to suffer for 4 decades as I did with this condition before getting the help I needed.
For 29 years, I was misdiagnosed
For most of my life, I thought I was battling depression. Bipolar two often has severe period of depression but then gives way to hypomania. When I am depressed I become a different person. I am impossible to reason with or cheer up. I am a pit of sorrow and black despair. I will suck the life out of anyone who gets too close. I am miserable and have nothing nice to say.
The smallest task seems herculean. Impossible. I can’t get out of bed. I can’t get dressed. I can’t open my email. I just want to die but even suicide is to much effort.
Once, when I was depressed but also suicidal, I made a plan to die by dehydration. I figured it was the easiest way to die with the least amount of effort. Getting out of bed to do anything related to trying to survive seemed pointless anyway. I have been suicidal depressed and pondered suicide so often that I could probably write a book about all the pros and cons or various methods. I won’t though, so don’t go looking for one!
My depression is such a contrast to who I really am, that I used to deny that it happened. In general, I am an optimistic, “Everything is working out for me” kind of goddess! For decades I could not accept that the depressed version of me was a part of me. I hid her away and always thought I was improving when really I was just cycling. That’s what happens when you are misdiagnosed as depressed.
Once my hypomania kicked in, I would think I was getting better. Not realizing that I was just on my bipolar cycle of depression and hypomania.
So What is Hypomania?
Hypomania is described as a more mild form of mania. It can take form as an elevated, enthusiastic mood of greater levels of productivity and accomplishment. I am not going to lie. Sometimes it feels like a super power! Especially in American society which rewards manic behavior! I can feel like I have tremendous self esteem, endless creativity and no need for tending to my biological needs of food and rest.
As expected, it can easily spiral out of control. The urgency, impatience and overwhelm of starting too many projects at once, can easily turn into hyper sensitivity to noise, irritability, impatience and rage! If I don’t reign it in, it can lead to dangerous and irrational behavior like speeding down the highway and other recklessness.
It took years of overcoming the stigma, shame and guilt associated with having a mental illness, even more as a Black woman. Society is already heavily antiblack and generally views women as hysterical and less competent. The last thing I needed was the stigma of also having a mental illness! So like many, I hid my condition- first from myself, and then from the world.
For years, I suspected that what I had was more than depression. I have been seeing counselors and therapists since I was 8 years old. It wasn’t until I was 37 years old that a therapist suggested that I may have bipolar disorder. That is 29 years of being misdiagnosed! Twenty nine years of trusting into a system that failed me time and time again.
Doctor Prescribe Medication Makes me Suicidal
At one point, I was prescribed antidepressants. Though always skeptical of mediation, at the time I was at the beginning of my mental health journey. I wanted to believe that there was a “magic pill” that could make me all better! Well antidepressants make people who have bipolar disorder more suicidal and unstable! That experience only made me more distrustful of doctors and their medication.
After having studied the various medications for my condition and their long list of horrid side effects (some even worse than having bipolar) I opted out of having doctors “practice medicine” on me. Additionally, we know that doctors have been ignoring Black women and subjecting us to harmful and even deadly procedures since forever! One of my friends who had been prescribed medication for most of her life was now suffering the consequences of trusting into the system. Her youthful body was frail and prone to break down. I wasn’t going out like that!
The Stats for People Living with Bipolar are Scary AF
The more I researched, the more dire the stats for my condition are. 60% of people with bipolar are unemployed and have a higher rate of becoming unhoused. Our life expectancy is reduced on average by 15 years. We are 50% more likely to attempt suicide and 20% more likely to complete it. None of this was uplifting or inspirational.
Most recommended a lifetime of therapy and medication. Not only did I refuse to take a lifetime of medication, but even if I did get on them, I frequently didn’t have health insurance. That meant that I may have to suddenly stop taking meds if I couldn’t afford them. Suddenly stopping medication can also have dire consequences.
So I had to figure out how I was going to survive living with this condition without being dependent on meds.
Why Me Damnit? Rage before Acceptance
To be honest, when I finally accepted my condition, I was pissed! On top of all the shit I have to navigate as a queer, Black woman, now I have a relatively unknown, incurable, mental illness too! For real, for real!? What kind of bull shit was this? Here I was in my early 40s, divorced mom of two, successful 6 figure business owner, former student body president of my college, summa cum laude graduate, was featured on Ebonys podcast, had contracts with San Francisco Unified school district and I have bipolar disorder! Say what?
And after looking at just how bad this chronic condition was and all that was required JUST TO BE WELL, I am livid. I raged at God like, “You want me to not kill myself and stick this shit show out? Well I’mma need hella resources God, because apparently it’s going to be very expensive just to keep me alive! So make it rain because I have no idea how I can afford this!”
What Would it Take to Stay Alive?
Bipolar affects many things. There are days when my energy is extremely low …or high. I may not sleep well or I may sleep too much. I have to be intentional about making time to eat and eating what supports my brain health. That meant changing my diet and reducing fat, sugar, alcohol and caffeine. At first, I heavily resented that. I have to put myself on a schedule! Me! Miss Free Spirit. Miss — I have my own business, so I can work or sleep whenever! I resented having a self imposed bedtime. But I also know that just night of poor sleep can be DEADLY for me. So hello self imposed bedtime.
I had to be super mindful about what I watched or read. Bad news could send me into a rage or a depression. I had to limit my to do list and not overwhelm myself. That seemingly meant less productivity. I had to get out in nature everyday and exercise for at least an hour. That impacted my workday. I needed to eat healthy foods which meant more food prep (which I hate). And countless other changes. Mostly I had to accept that though I am “high functioning bipolar” (meaning I can blend in pretty well with the rest of you), I am still chronically sick. I had to accept that I must make allowances for my invisible condition or it may very well kill me.
In my next article, I will share at least 10 things I do in order to manage my condition without OTC medications. Thus far, this complete overhaul of my life has dramatically improved my condition. When I started this journey, I didn’t really believe I could get well. I thought I would go through the motions to prove everyone wrong and then end my life, like “I told you so.” However, since committing to doing most of the things everyday, I now believe, for the first time, that I will die of natural causes and not by my own hand.
How Starting my Own Business Saved my Life!
One of the best things I did in order to get well was start my own online consulting business. Had I stayed employed as a high school teacher, I am convinced I would have ended my life. Working a stressful, low paying, demanding job only made my condition worse.
I encourage Black women to pursue online coaching or consulting businesses. When done in a way that centers your peace, the result can be nothing short of life changing! Making myself my own boss was one of the best things I could do to protect my mental health!
If you would like help in creating your Path to Peaceful Profits, you can schedule a call here and join my next FREE online event here.
