When bipolar hit me I was estranged from my husband, struggling to take care of a sick child, long without sleep and running from myself. My father was the only one running after me. Trying desperately to help. Seeing my terrible sickness, trying to get me help. If it hadn’t been for my dad, I fear I may have died. I wasn’t suicidal then, but I was dangerous. Manic to the point of psychosis. Starved for sleep. Alone and looking for help. But not sure what type of help I was looking for. Staying up late every night. Not resting. Driving. I was dangerous and didn’t know it.

All of my energy was being used to care for David, none was left for me. He was being fed. He was sleeping. He was getting his medicine. He was making it to his doctor’s appointments. My father called at David’s doctor appointment looking for me. He asked the doctor, the pediatric cardiologist to keep me there so he could talk with me. He was so worried. He wanted to get me care. And to get someone with more functioning emotional balance to care for David. My dear step mom Betty. He accomplished it. It was a miracle. I don’t know how he did it. I was running so hard from treatment. I was so frightened. I didn’t know what was wrong and I didn’t want to be separated from my baby.

As I think of it, despair fills me. I am proud of my father that he took care of David and I. So sorry that my ex came into town and took over. So sad that Davey died under his care. I know it wasn’t his fault. I don’t blame him. I just hurt so badly. Hurt so that Davey died while I was in the hospital.

A mother’s heart broke that day. On Mother’s Day week it seems impossible not to think about. Yet, I’m so thankful to my father that he was there for me. Yes, it is a tragedy that my son died when I was in the hospital. But, so much better that it happened while we were both getting care. What if it had happened while I was driving under a terrible manic high? What if it had been before my dad found me and got me help. Or if I had refused help and gotten even worse?

What an unspeakable tragedy that would have been! Yes, my dad found me. He found me when I was showing signs the frightening signs of mania. Before any of us knew what that was. When I was very sick. Sicker than I have ever been since. And he saved my boy from dying because of me. He saved me from that. And he saved me from death in a reckless moment of mania. And he got me help.

My dad is my hero. Always was. He always took care of me. You can see a bit of our bond in this picture. He also introduced me to my dear husband when I was well and recovered. My new hero. My caring lover and stalwart friend. We bipolar types need friends. We can use heroes. Caring loves in our lives. We may need rescuing sometimes.

This is a dramatic story. Sometimes our moms and friends rescue us. Sometimes we help rescue ourselves. Sometimes our caregivers do. Please have a rescue plan in place so things don’t get this dramatic, for you. I have one now. So I won’t need to be rescued like that again. I am found. I intend to stay that way.

Or God can heal in an instant.

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. “Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” Albert Einstein

I was praying with a dear friend on Facebook. Praying for my estranged friend and I. Suddenly, they began to pray in earnest for healing of the pain that person was in. In all my writings I have focused on my pain and in my thoughts as well. Not thinking of the pain that person was in. I began to think about it. And, I began to cry as I prayed. We both did. We prayed and cried as the Heavens opened and brought healing. Healing to my soul. Not long after we prayed, I saw a text from my friend they had sent that morning. The text was delayed and suddenly appeared. It was a prayer for me. I texted a reply. A reply of reconciliation as it turns out. I won’t go into the details as they are private, except to say that a miracle happened in both of our hearts and God restored our friendship. Something we both had prayed for.

Forgiveness. Forgetting. Love. It is all a miracle. And so wonderful when it happens. I love this quote I found tonight on people and restoration:

“People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.”
― Audrey Hepburn

We had come too close to losing a wonderful friendship. As it turns out, she never intended to end our friendship. I had misunderstood that part. I was ready to end it due to my pain. God had better plans for us. And I believe has better plans for all of us. If we two friends can come back from the brink of such a huge misunderstanding isn’t there hope for everyone?

Hope to understand each other a little better. Hope to listen to our own hearts? Hope to find peace and the solace we need in our God and in each other. I think there is. Audrey Hepburn was wise. People do need to be restored, renewed, redeemed, most especially. We have a God who will handle these things for us. All we need to do is pray.

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it…” ― Nicholas Sparks

It’s true what our man Nicholas says. He’s talking romantically here, I imagine, as the author of “The Notebook” often is. This quote is from a different story of his I haven’t read, but then I’m taking an educated guess. My heart was not broken romantically, but rather in friendship. Nonetheless it broke. And the pain was so bad one night it mimicked a heart attack. I had to call 911 and be taken right in. My blood pressure was soaring, my heart hurt bad, my neck and shoulder and left arm all screamed in pain. I was not anxious, I was terrified. I kept telling myself I could NOT be having a heart attack, I was too young. I only felt like one. Must be my acid reflux. But, the doctor said, that’s usually in the middle of your chest and not on the left and you responded to the nitro in the ambulance and so I am admitting you to cardiac ICU without waiting for the blood tests, and getting you a stress test as soon as possible. ADMITTING. Not a word I’d heard since my bad asthma of the summer, not a word I like to hear EVER. Not a word anyone likes to hear about hospitals!

I waited for the test and tried to sleep. I hadn’t slept all night, first because of anguish, then because of the pain. I don’t really want to relive the breakup of the friendship again. You can read earlier blogs to find out that it happened. I’ve suffered and wondered and prayed and wailed for a couple of weeks now. My friends are very important to me and this was a very dear friend. One I had prayed with, laughed with, cried with and talked with regularly before going to bed at night. Maybe that was why I was having so much trouble sleeping. Hard to say.

Well, finally I had the stress test and like the other tests, it seemed to look okay. I awaited word from the Cardiologist. Finally he came to talk with me. He had read all of my reports. He was a very sweet man. He said you have a clean cardio bill of health! I said I am very glad! We smiled.

He said, well we know what it was not now we will discover together what it was. How about your acid reflux? Have you been eating rich foods, not taking your pills? I shook my head. How about stress? My eyes got wide…Your job? No, I laughed. What then? Well, I have a good friend. Very good really. She decided a couple of weeks ago…well, it went south. Ahh, he said. That would do it. Really? I said. Yes, he nodded. This sort of thing can be deadly he said. My eyes got very big, how so? I said. Well, you haven’t been sleeping have you? No, I said. Car accidents from lack of sleep, things like that can happen. The pain you had in your heart can trigger other problems. This is more common than you realize. You must distance yourself from this person, from the pain and let your soul heal.

Can you move away? he asked. Oh I don’t think I’ll have to I said, she doesn’t live that close. Ahhh, he said. Well, move yourself away from whatever upset you last night. Give your soul time to heal. Okay I said. We smiled and parted.

I was discharged and went home. Home to change my life a bit. Distance myself from a few inroads on social media that left me exposed to memories I couldn’t handle yet. Home to let myself heal. To ask for help from friends. From my Lord. The same emotion ~ love ~ that causes our hearts to break will heal us. The love of friends and my Loving Lord is healing my soul and heart today. I am so very thankful.

“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” ― C.G. Jung

I was never one for introspection. I lived my life looking outside of myself. For fun, happiness, the approval of others. I didn’t reflect on the things that happened to me ~ I just kept travelling through my life acting out, an extrovert extraordinaire.

Then one morning I awoke in the locked ward of a psychiatric wing of a hospital in downtown Minneapolis. I was wearing a halter dress and my underwear. I was barefoot. I had freaked out the night before in the emergency room of my neighborhood hospital after my ex-husband crashed a little family party I was having and tried to take my baby with him. He wasn’t my ex then, we were separated and I hadn’t been sleeping, he sensed something was wrong. I didn’t realize that. I thought he just wanted to take our baby from me.

I was diagnosed with manic depression. That’s what they called it in the 70′s ~ now bipolar disorder. The same frightening illness. I have had it for 36 years. I’m doing better than I was when first diagnosed. Night and day really. I’m a success story. I am no longer afraid of introspection. I am good at gauging my moods and sensing when it’s time to call the doctor about a medication change. I became reflective and found my inner self because it was the only way to survive this illness.

For that one reason, I am thankful for the bipolar disorder that has dogged me. It has taught me to listen to the still small voice within. I had often ignored the inner voice that was my answer to a prayer. I ignored my own inner voice as well and didn’t heed the warnings of conscience and instinct and intuition.

That gets you into a lot of trouble in life. What Jung wrote is true: …”who looks inside, awakes.” If you listen to your inner self and to your God…you learn what is really important to you. Rather than being just a people-pleaser, you become more genuine, more yourself, more in sync with who you were created to be. Then there is flow. Rhythm. Peace in your life. You are more effective, happier, a better mother, wife, person, friend.

My awakening began that morning. I awoke in confusion. I awoke naked on this earth. Stripped of my life and much of my mind. Only my inner voice and God to guide me. So I began to listen. The extrovert extraordinaire learned some new skills from that day forward, and I believe became better for it. Now I can give more to this world because of it. So, I thank my bipolar enemy who is really my friend. I have decided to embrace this disorder and not just fight it. I accept it and live with it. Yes, my daily quest is to live above the madness, but by that I mean the darkness that will try to envelope the bipolar person.

I will embrace the disorder, because it is a part of me. I do not fear it. It is just there. I have medications and Hope to control the darkness. I have my reasoned experience with it to help me listen to my body and then cue my team to help me quickly before things get out of hand. Because of these things I can live in balance as much as possible. That is living successfully with bipolar disorder defined.

This month of May is National Mental Health month. Whether you suffer with a mental disorder or not, I challenge you to increase your awareness on this important topic. With the help of other bloggers and groups on Twitter, I have started a daily paper on living successfully with bipolar disorder. I urge you all to take a look at it sometime and contribute to it too! We can use your help and your awareness and support. The link for the paper is here: bipolar daily: Living Above The Madness. Thank you!

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” ― Dr. Seuss

“…You are in charge of how you react to the people and events in your life. You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead. Take control and choose to focus on what is important in your life…”
― Anaïs Nin

Above the circling drain in my kitchen is a counter cutout going into the living room and on it I have hung my favorite painting done by the artist wife of my husband’s drum instructor, Agnes Fine. She has a wonderful gift with watercolors. A light and dreamy touch in this painting. She began painting when she was 50. The lovely hand-blown glass pitcher below it is a gift from a treasure in my life, my friend of the heart and faith, Heather. We are sisters of the spirit and love each other deeply. So these are the precious things I look at instead of the goop circling the drain when I clean the kitchen. Follow my blog with Bloglovin

It’s a good metaphor for our lives and thoughts. After my last post. A brilliant commentor said, “I’m at a point where I don’t surround myself with anyone or anything that isn’t positive or that drains me…” She went on to talk about the balance between being exposed to negativity and doing the work on our relationships. There is a balance I agree, but for the most part, when a relationship is toxic, circling the drain so to speak it is time to let it be…let go.

I feel this way about negativity. When you have the challenge of living with bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, and mental illness trying to cripple you, negativity can be your worst enemy. It is the very head of the beast. So don’t let the barnacles cling to you too! The barnacles of others negativity might just drag you into the drain!

Instead keep your eye on the beauty of the positive things in your life. The sunshine, the God you love. Your friends and family who care for you. Your best qualities. Laughter. And pick up positive things to help you through your day. A bible verse. A great quote. A smile returned. A joke from your funny Facebook friend. You may know where to look, if not begin your search on Brainyquotes.com, Goodreads.com, thebible.com and continue your search out your window, down your street, on your computer, phone and other lifelines. Email me! livingabovethemadness@gmail.com, comment here. I will gladly reply.

Letting go of negativity is not easy. They are barnacles. And it can be the head of the beast of mental illness if you let it. But laughter can slay this best. That and your medications can defeat your illness. Don’t circle the drain. Look instead at all the beauty and possibilities that lie above it. We have only stratched the surface here. There are many more ideas in the world of positivity.

“Of course motivation is not permanent. But then, neither is bathing; but it is something you should do on a regular basis.”
― Zig Ziglar, Raising Positive Kids in a Negative World

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

There are many things that come to mind when I think of the word strong. Horses running through a field. I was a horse girl. My cousins had horses so I got to ride. Horses are gentle and strong when they are good ones and I was lucky to know good horses.

People who are gentle and strong I love very much. My grandfather was such a man, my father too and now my husband. I have been very blessed. But there was a weak man in my life who hurt me terribly. One who I had to be strong about and forgive. I was reminded of this whole experience this week when of all things a friendship of mine went south, a dear friendship really. There was little closure, because the person wouldn’t talk it out. I had to ask forgiveness via voice mail. And then release the friendship to God.

That is exactly what I did with my ex-husband. You are probably wondering how a marriage can die and one party not really know why, but it happens. I know he couldn’t cope with the death of our children. He also didn’t want to be married to someone with bipolar disorder. He let that be known to my family. I guess that is plenty of reasons. Not one thing was told to my face, so I don’t really know. It was a mystery of sorts, something I had to deal with in sickness and darkness, with only God to shine the light of day on it. And one day I forgave. Recently with the help of a dear friend I forgave even more deeply than I had in the past. Forgave and released it to my God. Without forgiveness there is bitterness. In bitterness there is brokenness, illness, regret and torment of the mind.

Let me be clear, I don’t mean my recent friendship loss was this traumatic. It was just that we didn’t talk things out face to face or phone to phone. I suffered some bewilderment that they didn’t want to talk it out. But we do not control others. They are their own people. They have their own reasons and emotions and minds and Spirits that give them their course in life. So we need to let go. Let go and let God.

I’ll admit the anxiety and angst played havoc with my bipolar some sleepless nights. I wrote about other things. But, I have now been unfriended it’s official. The world and social media have spoken, so I must face it. When texts and calls and ill placed phone calls or silence reap nothing, it is time to realize that friendship has ended.

I will always love and admire this person. I will not know the answer, but in the strength of forgiveness for myself and the love of God for this friend I can let go. There is peace in letting go. Just as much as there is hurt and anxiety and frustration in hanging onto things that are slipping through your fingers.

For as the love chapter I Cor 13 says, “Love bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.” Love never fails. Neither does the Author of this amazing love and the One who forgives us all.

“There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.”
― Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things

There are so many fragile things everywhere. I have many in my house, some that have already broken, like this little glass stem. And our hearts and very beings can be fragile, tenuous, especially when we are in the throws of mania or depression. We may cry at the drop of a hat. Or become anxious out of the blue. Perhaps we have lost control of our thoughts, or they are racing and we cannot sleep. And we haven’t slept for a few nights and are becoming anxious to lie down, afraid that again sleep won’t come.

When we are strong and free from symptoms ~ we feel so good and light as air. Not heavy with dread of the next bout or wave that will hit us. Those are the time for rejoicing, for laughter, for thanking God that we are alive and that we can make it through anything!

Clinging to friends and whoever will listen. That is for the dark times. That is for the fragile times. Friends who are there for us then are friends indeed. My husband, my best friend Cooley who visited me the first time I was hospitalized and brought red licorice and all of her courage. We were only 23. It was not a good place. She is a rock of a friend. She still calls at uncanny times to say, “How are you doing, Baker? I was thinking about you!” Friends since we were 13. Ten years before the word or illness entered my life. Before we even knew what manic depression was. Still my friend. Still in my corner. I would do anything for her too, of course, and have been there for her through the loss of her parents, her own personal sorrows and her days of great rejoicing. Our frequent escapes for coffee and good conversation are and oasis in our lives.

Many great friends. Heather, a treasure. Laura. LeeAnn. Kathleen. Debi. Susan. Lois. Jeannette. Friends of the heart and of the Spirit. Consolation. Courage givers. Stephen and Joseph. Ty and Matt. Dave and Rickie. Mary Lou. Arthur. Of course, my beloved Mike and loving daughter Abby. There for me. Always there.

Strength begins go fill me as I think of them. Gifts from God all of them. Many times prayed for. Praying for me in dark and happy times. Support and love keeps the fragility at bay. Strengthens the heart and mind. Lends support to troubled emotions. Makes one feel strong in the strength of the love of God and the love of friends. How can defeat come? It cannot. Willingness to go on and triumph fills the heart and mind. Fear and anxiety flee. Resolve is strengthened. Feelings of worthlessness are banishes and worthiness replace them. It is a good life if you don’t weaken to the tunes of darkness, but listen to the tunes and music of the life of love and joy and peace in the Lord and the blessings He brings. Thank you my Lord and for the friends you have brought me I am very grateful.

I’ve never been particularly quiet! I like the phrase “Shout it Out!” And I like this quote by C.S. Lewis:

“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
― C.S. Lewis

We are pleasantly quiet at times when all is well, but when we’re in pain we cry out. Injustice cries out. Hurt cries out. Bipolar pain has been quiet too long. We cry out! We’re crying out.

I want to mobilize all the brave people blogging on bipolar pain on Word Press, Blogger, Facebook and Twitter to publish in this new paper. Maybe I should name it simply: Above the Madness, and not the name of my blog.

It’s not my paper. It’s for an illness that has lived under the shroud of shame too long. And for all who have it ~ and other mental disorders. And for all who need to know about it. Which is the world!

God “shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” C.S. Lewis.

Rouse it to Caring. To Action. To Belief. To Sharing. To Love.

Join me will you?

@copyright Libby Baker Sweiger

I saw the series of pictures from tonight’s dinner and I thought I looked happy. But, very tired. I haven’t been sleeping. I might as well admit it to the world. The remission has ended. I am manic. Is it the springtime, the bonk on my head, the stress of our world, the loss of a friendship? Who knows? I’m manic. That is all that I know. I cannot sleep and I cannot think the way I usually do. I am frightened of the way my mind is not working and then again, relieved that at times it works well.

I have enjoyed bursts of creativity. Driven to write. But I really need sleep. And soon. I do not want to end up in the hospital. I hate the hospital. I would rather eat glass. Now there is a statement totally without thought or merit. I forgot to take one of my meds three days in a row. I never do that. It is totally irresponsible and not like me at all. Doing so made me much worse. At first I blamed the mania on the error, but which came first. The grievous oversight, or the mania, the lack of judgment, the carelessness which caused it?

Probably the mania. And now it is worse. I am back on the medication and pulling out of the tailspin. But damage has been done. Not just to me. I lost a friend. I wrote something careless in a blog. Ranting about something I disagreed with that happened to be near and dear to a best friend’s way of thinking. She is lost to me now. Carelessness, bravado, cruelty, lack of judgment, loss of a friend. There are such thin lines between these words, between these experiences. Lack of judgment is the curse of mania. It is the pivotal force of destruction that it brings. Overspending, overstating, over-thinking, overtalking, overdoing everything. OVERBOARD!

That is mania. Doing everything too too much. I hate it. Depression turns the destructive force inward, mania turns the destructive force loose on the world. Either way it’s a destructive disorder. That is why I hate having it so much. I don’t want to be involved in anything that hurts me or others and yet I am. I am. Powerfully involved in something that hurts. Powerfully involved in something that can hurt.

Bipolar disorder is not for sissies. It’s a Facebook Page my fellow sufferer, LeeAnn found. I love the name. It’s not for the faint of heart that is for sure. Not if you are wanting to live above the madness. I haven’t been lately. I have been trudging right through the slop. With one hand stretched heavenward, asking for help. Reaching for my creator to pull me out of the quicksand. Not my head though. My head is bowed as if I am walking into a windstorm. I am braced against the slop. Braced against it from enveloping me.

Dear Lord, MY LORD, lift me up, “out of the miry clay. Set my feet upon a rock and establish my goings. Put a new song in my heart, even praise unto my God….many shall see it and fear…and shall trust in the Lord.” There my mind shifted gears into the singing of one of my favorite Psalms. Thanks God. For your word in my heart.

I know I will trudge through this. I know I will be Above the Madness again one day soon. Until then, please think of me and pray for me dear friends. For I love you all. Thanks, Lib

@copyright Libby Baker Sweiger Living Above The Madness