Lived Experience Forum

[Rosie1961]

MY EXPERIENCE WITH

BIPOLAR DISORDER

1. It was the northern hemisphere Spring of 1996 and I was in Pakistan. I was running a nursery/pre-school for diplomats’ children in the capital, Islamabad, and as we approached the end of our 2nd year we were doing well in that we were nearly full.  We were not, however, making any money.

1. It had taken an unbelievable amount of hard work to get to where we were. My background was in legal rather than childcare and my only “qualification” for running a preschool was that I had 3 children who had been or were in preschool.  I agonised over every decision, due to my ignorance and good intentions, and running the preschool to the standard expected by the diplomatic community was gruelling.  I nearly killed myself and the staff but we did it.

1. I had marvellous staff, (1 of whom was an Australian qualified primary art teacher) and the rest of us tried to make up for our lack of qualifications by trying harder. Originally, I was not a “teacher”, only the manager, but my Australian qualified teacher had to have time off and I filled in for her.  I only took on the role because, in the best I could do of an honest assessment, I was better at the job than anyone I could hire at the time.  It was hard for me, however, and it took an awful lot out of me to be constantly working with the children as well as managing.

1. As the Spring Easter Break of our second year approached I was aware that I was exhausted and pushing my own not inconsiderable limits. I had driven myself harder in the previous 2 years than I ever had before (and that’s saying something as I had always worked very hard in my legal jobs) and I had done it, partly at least, through the unbelievable heat of the Pakistani summer where day after day it tops 40 degrees and running air conditioners is exorbitantly expensive.  Dehydration and heat exhaustion lurk all through the long, so so hot summer, and another one was on its way.

1. I therefore took a decision to put myself to bed for the 2 week Spring Break. I had never done anything like that before but it was what I felt I needed.  But on day 1 of my bedrest I received a call from one of the preschool’s mothers – who was also a friend of mine and whose daughter played with my daughter regularly.  But she had bad news – she was a messenger from a number of mums that they were concerned at how things were going in the 18 months-2 and a half years group – the little ones – as I had been upstairs with the oldest children, the 4 and a half to 5 and a half.

1. So I got out of bed to go and see her and then proceeded to spend the rest of the holiday working out new timetables, new activities, etc. etc. for the groups so that I could spend time with the little children as well as with the older children.

1. Meanwhile crunch time had arrived on the financial front – as I said, we were nearly full but we were going broke. I took a decision that we had to raise our fees substantially and I picked the American School as our “yardstick”.  This would enable me to nearly double the fees and would give financial security.

1. I had a very religious mother-in-law (with whom I lived) and it had rubbed off on me. I was saying prayers and, urged on by my mother-in-law, I decided to put my faith in God and work through the exhaustion – God would look after me, I would just keep going.

1. With hindsight, the first symptoms of the bipolar were appearing at about this time. I started thinking things were “meant to be” (which for me is a symptom) and I was waking up very early in the morning (another symptom, especially for me) with a “bing” - fully alert and continuing to think about what I had fallen asleep thinking about with hardly a pause for breath so to speak.  And I was very religious – again this is a symptom for me.

1. The last term before the Summer passed with me having moved beyond exhaustion to what was in hindsight hypermania. The exhaustion was gone and I was full of energy and worked like a demon.  We were putting the fee increase through too – I had no idea whether parents would pay nearly double the fees and if they didn’t want to then the pre-school was finished and what was I going to do then?  I had 3 little children and a husband who wouldn’t get out of bed.  The anxiety was overwhelming.  My main support was my mother-in-law and her advice was to trust in God, so I did.

1. And I got the fee increase through (not, I like to think, thanks to God but rather thanks to the wonderful job we had all done over the previous 2 years). 80 percent of parents committed for the following year at the new fee level.  I felt like I could breathe again and decided not to run a summer school (as we had the year before) as I still knew I desperately needed a break.  I had lost my appetite (another symptom) and had lost a lot of weight. 

1. But I needed money to expand the space we used for our older children and on the basis that it must be meant to be (and urged on by the need for money) I went ahead and made plans but still had enough sense still to limit it to 3 days a week.  But by this time I was well and truly losing the plot and I planned an extravagant “artisans of Pakistan” summer programme where kids aged 7-12 could learn everything from pottery to woodwork to basket weaving and fabric design – everything that local Pakistani artisans could teach.  It was a good idea but much too ambitious.  And the plan was that I could build a new room on with the money – this would make us truly competitive in the older age group.

1. I also designed a “beach” and arranged for it to be built (this actually worked and was used for years to come) and a large structure designed to shelter the children from the sun which was a failure and had to be dismantled.

1. But by this time I was in orbit. I was psychotic – believing things like when the phone rang it was a message that I was talking too much;  that there was an Islamic saint looking after me;  that suffering would bring me closer to God;  that there were dead bodies buried in the front yard – the list goes on. 

1. Then I physically collapsed. I was in the bathroom one morning and my legs went out from under me.  They took me to a hospital and I was prescribed bedrest.  But it was too late – my first manic episode was well and truly underway.  I was sleeping a bare 5 hours a night, I wasn’t eating etc.  I wasn’t “hearing” voices in an auditory sense but I had a sort of commentary running from another part of the inside of my head.  I was praying 5 times a day;  I thought I was being shown some of the secrets of creation etc. etc.

1. And I decided I wanted a divorce (which I maintain until this day was evidence that even when mentally ill we can make some good decisions). There had been a couple of really nasty incidents with the somnolent husband and I decided I’d had enough.  When he said I’d be dead before I got a divorce and knocked me over when I dived for the phone to call for help, that was it for me.  The marriage was over.

1. I sent out various SOS calls and a very good friend came to see me and with a degree of kindness that still leaves me awed, he lent me an enormous sum of money so that I didn’t have to run a summer program and could rest. And my father jumped on a plane to come and do whatever he could.  I hoped that in Pakistan’s the patriarchal society his presence would somehow help me get the divorce I wanted.  He didn’t have a lot of success but his presence helped me enormously and I appreciated his response to my cry for help more than words can say.

1. Soon after he had to return home, I left for Australia for a holiday, without the children as my husband wouldn’t let them come. While I was here I tried unsuccessfully to get the children to join me.  I was only mildly (compared to later episodes) manic as the psychosis etc. let up a little in the less stressful environment of home.  Still, I was quite sick and my parents knew something was definitely wrong but they didn’t know what.  I saw one doctor who said it was just overwork and what I’d been through.  As far as I know, no one - least of all me – thought of a mental illness.  I had been overworking so thoroughly, been through such stress etc etc.  Added to this was the fact that historically, I was one of the most sensible people I knew (especially compared to my husband and mother-in-law).  Furthermore, my brother had schizophrenia, and I thought this made it less, not more, likely that I should have a mental illness.  I was of course quite wrong.

1. When all my efforts to get the children to Australia failed I went back to Pakistan with plans to bite the marriage bullet as long as I had to and to get the children out somehow. I can’t exactly remember what I had in mind but as I tipped into depression I stopped having any plans – suddenly, for the first time in my life, I was immobilised by my mood.  I had never had a day’s depression before and didn’t understand at all what was wrong with me.  All I knew was that all I wanted to do all day was sit in front of the heater and read books.

1. The months passed and I got better and I returned to work at the pre-school etc. and got back to my normal self. I was living in hope of getting home with the kids and not coming back but if things had been ok in Pakistan I would have stayed.

1. My next attack was 1999. It was set off, I believe, by the stress of a domestic violence incident which involved the children as well as me and frightened them very badly.  The incident included a threat that if I called the police I would be killed and, seeing as in Pakistan that would be all too easy to arrange, I took the threat seriously and after careful thought (and with paranoia starting to rear its head as I became unwell) started making plans to leave for Australia without letting my husband know.  Just for information’s sake, this was in fact legal under Pakistani law although Australian law saw it as akin to kidnap. 

1. With the help of a friend I got the children and myself onto an airplane with just the clothes we were wearing. My husband guessed what was happening and came to the airport and tried to get us off the plane but he had less influence than the people who had put us on the plane.  It was a terrifying experience, with men with machine guns all over the place, but finally we took off.  I spent the whole trip to Bangkok terrified that my husband could arrange to have us sent back from there and even in Sydney I couldn’t breathe until we cleared customs.

1. I called my parents from Bangkok to let them know we were on our way. That gave them 8 short hours to prepare for our arrival but they managed to meet us at the airport, with jumpers and cardigans, and pyjamas, toothbrushes and the essentials were all waiting for us when we got to their house.  In addition, they provided endless support, both emotional and financial.  They really tried to help, but by the time me and the children had been home a fortnight or so I was in a full blown manic episode with still absolutely no idea that that was what it was – again I thought it was just stress.  The ensuing 4 months were a nightmare.  I was trying to look after my children – and I did my very very best – while I thought the radio was talking to me, the local supermarket staff watching and helping me, and the Federal Police protecting me and the children from the house across the road.  I even had hallucinations, both visual and auditory and also sensory;  and I was convinced that my thoughts were somehow being “broadcast”.  I spent a lot of time trying to work out how I could stop this from happening.

1. I should perhaps break my narrative here to convey a little more of what it’s like for me when I have a manic episode. (I can’t speak for schizophrenia or other disorders or even for other bipolar sufferers).  When I am manic my emotions are grossly exaggerated: I feel greater joy than is warranted or usual;  emotional pain slices into me like a hot *;  and fear – particularly of being thought crazy and of being committed - surfaces like a shark in a feeding frenzy.  And I tend towards a fanatic idealism – right and wrong assume massive importance; life’s injustices seem simply no longer tenable.

1. Also, as the episode takes its course and the paranoia, psychosis and delusional thinking develop, I become convinced that I am in the process of discovering a new reality. And whilst, once sick, I lose sight of the fact that I’m not well, some part of my brain tells me not to let on too much about this new reality in case no one understands and they think I am crazy.  So you have to be very, very careful - but then rashness and impulsivity which is characteristic of mania overtake and you do or say things you wouldn’t normally do or say – leading to the fear again and on it goes.

1. I must emphasise that this is just a tiny part of the horror of what a manic episode can involve and cause. Overall, it can be an unbelievably terrifying, confusing and overwhelming experience.  It goes without saying too that it is harrowing for those who love you – my parents and children have suffered with me every step of the way.

1. Now the other thing that must be understood is that sleep is considered one of the most important things when you are manic: without it you simply become more and more ill; and that the calmness you need to sleep is very hard to find and very valuable. And again, I know this when I’m sick and I know that I need non-combative behaviour from others.  And calm and sleep don’t come easily when, for example, Mental Health those who should be helping you around you either don’t understand mental illness or don’t care about you.

[Lunar]

Hi there @Rosie1961

Thank you kindly for your story and experiences with Bipolar symptoms and how this has impacted your life, or how your life has impacted on you as well. It sounds rather complex and like you have gone through some extremely overwhelming times, it is great you are able to reflect on these.

Looking forward to hearing more,

Lunar