Well that’s a different kettle of fish entirely. I think it’s important to know what your diagnosis is so we don’t have to go worrying about that. It’s also very important to know you have a psychiatrist and you are on medication. Those are basic facts that anyone who is bipolar probably should disclose when asking for advice, if they want to get anything useful.
So, assuming you are medicated and therapized, you want to know how to tell the difference between situational depression and bipolar depression. Hah! The gazillion dollar question! Not even your hairdresser knows for sure (reference to an old Clairol commercial when they claimed you could color your hair and your hair dresser wouldn’t know). In this case, it’s the shrink that doesn’t know for sure.
Nor do we, for that matter.
Remember when you really were depressed and you thought this was what the rest of your life was going to be like? Remember when it seemed like nothing would ever change? You could not remember what being happy was like, much less imagine ever getting there.
For me, it was like walking on the bottom of the ocean. It was a deep, cold ocean and I could look up and I couldn’t even see a glimpse of the sun. Later on, when I actually did start getting better, I rose towards the surface, and I got to the point where I could see there was sun, but I got stuck. It seemed like I was forever in this depression that was low level compared to the worst, but it never got better and I just couldn’t imagine ever being happy.
My journey had a lot to do with love, since I believed the only thing that would get me out of this depression was if someone would fall in love with me. I was married at the time. I still am married—to the same woman, miracle of miracles. But I was looking for love elsewhere, and that drove both my mania and my depression. I was not diagnosed at the time.
Even after the diagnosis, I had ups and downs driven by my emotions involved with love affairs. Gradually they grew less and less extreme until eventually, things did settle down and I no longer needed to be seeking out love online in order to try to make myself feel better. But I was certainly using love in a way like a drug.
Separating out the effects of my meds and the med changes and the effect of my relationships was pretty much impossible. Figuring out what the underlying contribution of my bipolar is the same. It’s all mixed up. It all affects everything else. There is no saying I can take care of this myself, but I need meds to take care of that, and the advice of my shrink or therapist for the other thing.
We’re always working it. Always fighting for stability. And we always, I believe, benefit from using all the tools we have at our disposal.
At one point, I tried to go off lithium. Then something situational hit me, and I freaked and I went to my shrink and went back on lithium. I stabilized quickly, and later on, realized that I probably could have handled it on my own, without going back on lithium.
Since then, I’ve run into other situations that have thrown me, mostly having to do with relationships of various kinds, and I’ve vowed to fight them without going back to my shrink, and I’ve been successful. Eventually, I straightened out my love life, and things have now been stable with my wife for a long time, and I have been stable emotionally, and I have been coming off my meds.
I came off one med—an anti-depressant, as planned with my shrink. I came off a second, a mood stabilizer, in an unplanned way due to an emergency allergic reaction. Turned out it wasn’t to the med, but we didn’t know that at the time. He told me to come off cold turkey and I did. I had some withdrawal reactions, but I survived them, and am back to my stable self.
I feel like I know myself better. I feel like I have a good sense for what I can handle myself and for when I need to get more help.
I think that if you know yourself and your tools, then you can handle it. You know enough to not fool yourself. You will work on handling this on your own, knowing that when it gets too deep, you’ll ask for medical help. If you know for sure that you will get help, then I think that gives you the freedom to attack the problem on your own. So long as you don’t do the macho thing of saying no more medical help, and as long as you know when it gets too deep, then you’ll be ok.
When is it too deep? Well, if you find yourself asking whether it’s time to go see a doctor, then I’d at the very least talk to someone you trust and I’d probably go see the therapist to get a second opinion. It doesn’t hurt to talk. They will work with you. They won’t always try to give you more meds if you tell them you really want to handle it on your own. I think that most docs will respect that. If your’s doesn’t, find another one. Otherwise, use them, as needed.