Peace, Be Still

The past month has been a bit of a roller coaster for me. The bipolar disorder I live with has been in control in spite of the medications I take. I recently changed one drug I’ve been on for the past year because of a 60 pound gain in weight. I switched to another antipsychotic that is equally effective but at a fairly low dose because the initial dosage gave side effects I couldn’t handle. Right after that, things quickly deteriorated and I began experiencing symptoms that had been kept at bay.

I had originally been diagnosed as having Bipolar II which is a milder version of the disorder, known as Bipolar I, with the primary distinction being the absence of hallucinations or psychosis during mania. In BPD II it’s called hypomania, but as it turns out, my diagnosis was apparently incorrect because of what followed the change of medication.

For a few days after starting the medication, I was fine, but soon the roller coaster took off and I began to experience the familiar signs of hypomania, restlessness, irritability, difficulty sleeping, abundant energy, to name a few. What began as the expected episode soon accelerated into something beyond what I have had this past year. The symptoms of hypomania became exaggerated. I had to increase the medication I take to manage the anger and rage I can experience. It normally puts me to sleep, but failed to. It became very difficult to think clearly because my thoughts raced and I struggled at work. I couldn’t keep still, pacing instead of sitting. Add to that a nighttime cough and I soon was going without sleep for days. Finally, it culminated in hallucinations and I began hearing voices that were not there. That’s when I knew I was really in trouble.

A call to my psychiatrist and I was put back on the old medication at a high dose for a couple days and the symptoms subsided. That is when she told me that I had been misdiagnosed, that I had Bipolar I and my symptoms were worsening for some unknown reason. The new antipsychotic was gradually increased so I could adjust to it and I am now at a fairly high dose and stabilized again.

It was a frightening experience, one I hope to never have again, but there is no guarantee. I must admit that I wonder where God was when this was happening and why I even have this mental illness. I used to pray continually for it to be taken away, but my prayers and those of others seemed to go unanswered. I felt angry, betrayed, abandoned, and unloved. If God is so great, then how hard would it be to just make the bipolar go away? Like Job, I tried to praise God in spite of the adversity I face. And I have.

I still don’t have the answer to my question, but I do have something better: peace. Not the kind of peace that keeps me from mania or extreme depression. That is kept in check by medications. But the kind of peace that comes from God, the abiding peace that can only come from a divine source. It is the peace that says, “Be still and know that I am God.” I know there is a plan for my life and it includes mental illness. Not that he made me to be bipolar, but that he uses it to help others even as I struggle to learn how to live with it. In the end, it will only matter that I lived as best I could for him and loved along the way. He speaks peace to me and I hear it. I hear it.