Fall. The air gets crisp, the leaves turn colors and pumpkin spice fills the air. Time to get out the cozy sweaters and curl up by a fire. Sounds delightful, right? People absolutely love this season and celebrate it like it's the best time of the year. I HATE fall, October in particular! I dread it every year. For me, fall is filled with a mix of anxiety, depression, racing thoughts, agitation and feeling like I’m crawling out of my skin. All sound pretty dreadful, but imagine feeling all of those things in one day and having them switch on and off at any moment or all at once. That is fall with bipolar disorder for me. Instead of experiencing depression, hypomania or anxiety, I get them all at the same time.
As a kid, I dreaded fall. It was hospital season. Like clockwork, October came around, usually around Columbus Day, and I would come home to see my dad’s car in the driveway and find out he was in the hospital for an intestinal blockage… again! To this day, I immediately recall the deep turquoise green bathrobe he only wore in the hospital and the putrid smell of hospital food that filled the halls. His body revolted in October the way my brain does now. I’m sure the years of traumatic hospital memories sparked my fall hatred, but my personal struggles added to it as the years passed. As much as I have tried to will myself to like it, it never works. You can take me to all the corn mazes, apple orchards and farms you want, but fall will never win me over.
The challenge is trying to cope with it since I can't hibernate for an entire season. I have a business to run, a family to take care of and my own sanity to preserve. I have gotten a lot better at it, but it’s still unpleasant no matter how long I have dealt with it. I have had my diagnosis of bipolar two for 12 years now and lived with depression for 26 and it has taken me all this time to learn one of the best things I can do is try not to figure it out. I'm not feeling this way because I did something wrong, it's just the nature of the illness for me. I simply observe. Some things I take note of are:
Am I doing my hair and makeup?
Am I able to unload packages, open mail or do laundry?
Am I getting to the gym or going back to bed?
Am I taking Daisy for a walk or am I too tired?
Am I listening to Linkin Park (angry and depressed), Evanescence (super depressed) or Katy Perry (energetic and happy) or am I listening to all three on the same day?
Is the F word flying out of my mouth more often? Yes, that happens for some reason during mood shifts.
Am I bingeing on food or shopping too much?
Am I talking and moving too fast or too slow?
Am I joining things out of the ordinary? During one of my early episodes of hypomania, I joined a kickball team, which is very out of the ordinary. Harmless, but not me!
These are just some of the things I notice. None of these things on their own are cause for concern. It’s totally fine to do or not do some of these things sometimes, but if my packages are piling up, I’m not walking the dog and Linkin Park fills my playlist, and then randomly decide to join a team, I might need to pay attention. What I know helps is trying my hardest to stick to my routine and forcing myself to do what I don't want to do like being active and staying awake. I also celebrate the small wins. Not going back to bed when your body feels like 1,000 pounds deserves to be recognized. I try not to dwell on perfection. Right now I know I'm probably going to fall a bit off track with diet and exercise. I also might need a nap some days. Maybe I do my best work at 10 PM on other days. It's all ok.
So for now, I’m going to focus on getting to the gym, getting enough sleep and I'll skip joining the adult recreational volleyball team that crossed my mind the other day (for real!). If you’re looking for me any time soon, I’ll be in front of my light box counting the days until spring.