Bipolar Disorder: An unexpected journey

In this journey we call life, we pick up many hats along the way that define who we become. Wear a cowboy hat and you're called a cowboy. Wear a hard plastic helmet with a face mask and you become a football player. Some hats we pick up because of our vocation. Others are given at birth, without our knowledge or choice.

I have such a hat, only I didn't know about it for some four decades. My name is Bipo Lars, and I am one of more than 10 million Americans (according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness) who have bipolar disorder. The signs were there, lots of them. I just didn't see them. When driving cross country, we can use maps and road signs to help us find our way. Life's journey doesn't always offer us those conveniences. We usually don't see the signs until long after we've passed them. But then again, when you're talking about bipolar disorder, you may see the signs, but you sure as hell won't understand what they mean. Either will anyone else.

Try doing a Google search and you'll get 7.6 million hits, and seemingly as many definitions for bipolar disorder.

Here are a couple of examples:

According to the National Institute for Mental Health: Bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in a person's mood, energy, and ability to function. Different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through, the symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. They can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide.

Here's what Wikipedia has to say: Bipolar disorder is not a single disorder, but a category of mood disorders defined by the presence of one or more episodes of abnormally elevated mood, clinically referred to as mania. Individuals who experience manic episodes also commonly experience depressive episodes or symptoms, or mixed episodes which present with features of both mania and depression. These episodes are normally separated by periods of normal mood, but in some patients, depression and mania may rapidly alternate, known as rapid cycling.

These definitions, like most for bipolar disorder, read more like a typical food label. We can see the ingredients but have no idea what's really in that cookie or cracker. The problem with most of these definitions isn't that the words are too big or complicated for the average person to understand. The problem is that most terms used to describe bipolar are too vague. Let's take a closer look at the NIMH definition: It talks about "unusual shifts" in mood, energy and ability to function, but what does that look like? If you didn't know any better, you might describe a person experiencing a manic episode as hyper. You might also think that person just drank an extra-large energy drink. We've all been depressed at one time or another, but what is that like for someone with bipolar disorder? Depression is known to rob a person of energy. The unknowing observer among us might call that person lazy.

I graduated from college with a journalism degree 23 years ago, and still remember one lesson clearly. Avoid vague or ambiguous words. Numbers also fall into this category. In fact, I failed to follow my own advice. Earlier I mentioned that more than 10 million Americans are diagnosed with bipolar disorder. We know 10 million is a large number, but can't picture how big without some context. OK, let's give the number some context. According to the U.S. Census Bureau's population clock, there are more than 303 million people living in this country. That means 1 in 30 Americans has bipolar disorder. Look inside any elementary school classroom and there's a decent chance at least one student may be bipolar. Chances are even better that you won't be able to pick out the one.

No one had me picked out, not even the sixth-grade classmates who called me "cry baby," albeit for good reason. I would get so upset and start crying just because I thought a classmate was cheating in a playground game. This was nearly a daily occurence. The kid I talked into snorting laundry soap powder probably didn't think I was anything other an a kid who behaved badly. (I relate this last example to the well-known principle that bipolars are prone to participating in risky and irrational behavior; a bipolar's ability to predict consequences doesn't often match up very well with reality, especially at a younger age.) The fact I started drinking alcohol at age 13 was explained off by blaming peer pressure.

My mother was the first to think something might be wrong, an observation she made after hearing from my sister that I had been punching the mail box and the asphalt pavement because I was displeased with my performance as I practiced soccer in front of the house. However, I usually succeeded in convincing Mom that I was fine, just frustrated. My anger escalated as I got older. It was only after I pummeled a stone fireplace five or six times that I realized I needed help. I voluntarily attended anger management classes, and thought myself pretty well cured after that. My wife wasn't buying it. She left me and we remained separated for nearly six years. (We've now been back together for eight years, but more on that later.)

Despite all of the signs that something was horribly amiss in my life, it was very much by accident that I discovered that I had a mood disorder, let alone bipolar disorder. In 2001, the youngest of our three daughters began displaying many of the same behaviors I did. I think if you looked at our elementary school records side by side, you'd find teachers comments that were eerily similar. We were both good students, we just didn't excel in citizenship. As the year progressed, my daughter's problems escalated. Can you imagine a 9-year-old spewing f-bombs in the heat of the moment? (I couldn't, not from my own daughter at least) After one extremely volatile exchange, my daughter ran into the garage. When I caught up to her, what I saw scared the crap out of me: There she stood with a jump rope wrapped around her neck; she grabbed the ends and pulled. We were able to get the jump rope from her before she hurt herself, but what an eye-opener.

Several doctors later, my daughter was diagnosed with a mood disorder, most likely bipolar disorder. Even as doctors told us it was likely genetic, I refused to think I might be the one from whom she inherited it. After all, no else in my family was bipolar.

About two years later I began visiting a doctor for an unrelated reason: I had carpal tunnel syndrome in both hands, the result of more than 15 years in front of a computer. I had surgery on both hands, but suffered from nerve pain in one of the hands for quite some time afterward. At first the doctor suggested I take Vitamin B6. It helped some, but not enough. Eventually, he prescribed an anti-seizure medicine known as Neurontin (or Gabapentin in the generic form). After about two months, I noticed something completely unexpected; I was no longer experiencing the same level of agitation I once did. A light bulb went off in my wife's head. She did some research and realized that Neurontin also was used as a mood stabilizer. Between my daughter's diagnosis and my own revelation, I figured it was time I ask a doctor if it was possible I had a mood disorder. While I was told then that I had a mood disorder, I wasn't told what kind. That diagnosis came about three years ago. I was 43 at the time.

I have quite a collection of hats: I am a son, grandson, uncle, nephew, husband, father, former journalist, soccer dad and coach, and marketing coordinator for a vitamin company, among many others. And for the last 3 years, my name has been Bipo Lars, one of the more than 10 million Americans with bipolar disorder. The journey has been an unexpected one. There is good news, however. Bipolar is very treatable once you start noticing the signs. And it's not just about medications, although they are a vital part of treatment. Understanding the illness is also essential. Forget about cold, text-book explanations. Keep an eye on my hubs over the next several months as I venture to provide a real-life look at bipolar disorder.