Let’s face it. Being diagnosed bipolar can be a huge trauma. The diagnosis often comes with hospitalization. And, with the diagnosis usually comes medication. As the medication begins to work, you begin to go through subtle changes, changes that may save your life, but changes that cause the "old you" to disappear.
The old you is gone. You are now a labeled, medicated version of yourself.
And you’re much less proud. Bipolar illness is quite humbling.
How does the body deal with the loss of the old self?
Let’s face it. Most of us go through a mourning period after we’re diagnosed.
I got very sad after I was diagnosed. It seemed as though the new me was more than I could handle. I now had a major mental illness and took lots of pills every day.
I was in mourning.
This period of mourning lasted a few months. It was the body getting used to the new me.
Thank goodness, after the mourning period, I noticed that acceptance of my illness began to seep in.
If you’re recently diagnosed, you may be in a period of mourning.
There are things that can help you through this:
Be easy on yourself. You’re in a period of transition.
Talk to your friends about what’s going on in your life. Take comfort in their kind condolences.
Keep a diary of your feelings.
Go swimming early in the morning. Dive into an icy cold pool. Swim 20 laps.
When you’re grocery shopping, treat yourself to a divine brownie.
Don’t wear black; wear hot pink.
Don’t go out of the house without make-up; you’ll feel better.
Lean on your significant other.
Don’t hang up on the charity that phones you for money.
If you’re weepy, wear sunglasses.
Take a long bike ride or a long walk. Breathe in the air.
If you don’t have one, invest in a cat.
Take a short retreat at a neighborhood hotel. Check in alone or with someone you love. Luxuriate in the hotel bed; watch as much t.v. as you want; swim in the hotel pool. Eat crackers and cheese. Drink lemonade.
Invest in a soothing facial.
Plant marigolds in Styrofoam cups like you did when you were in kindergarten; watch them grow.
Invest in some music from around the world. Dance to the exotic beats.
Go to church, any church. Pray to your higher power for strength. Offer your suffering up. Seek acceptance of the new you.
Open up a bank account at a new bank. Call it "vacation fund." Deposit $25.00.
Be nice to someone. Go out of your way for him.
Investigate a European cruise. Put another $20.00 into your vacation fund.
Take Spanish. At least the new you will also be bilingual.
Tell a stranger on the bus why you’re in mourning.
Send yourself flowers to commemorate the old you. Make it a big, splashy spray. Write out one of those little cards to say "The old self will be missed..."
If you have a fireplace, make a fire.
Go to a bipolar support group. Learn from others that it could be a lot worse.
Take a two-hour bubble bath.
Get lost in a wonderful memory. Remember the time you were in Mexico in an open-air hut with a real monkey climbing around in the rafters. Remember how blue the water was. Remember the mild sunburn you got, the cream as it soaked into your hot, dry skin.
Drink a toast to yourself with some bubbly cider. Use a real crystal glass.
Go shopping. Buy one new outfit.
Go to some good theater. Reflect upon how theater can teach us about tragedy. Realize that you’re the star in your own heartbreaking show.
Rejoice in a memory. The warm spring air. The fresh green buds.
You will make it through this, you realize. You can feel happiness returning.
Know that with living comes change.
Deep emotion, whether happy or sad, is something to rejoice in. It means you’re human.
Take this mourning period to get adjusted to the new you, to mourn the old self.
You are simply changing.
For the better.
Believe it or not.