As I have more & more conversations about my mental health journey & as I listen to other folks tell their own stories, I find myself repeating something several mental health professionals told me over the years: "we treat symptoms, not diagnoses." For so long, I clutched to a label, at the time my misdiagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder, instead of really buckling down on the symptoms & triggers that were causing so much chaos in my life.

Once I let go of that attachment & dug into the roots of my disordered thinking, I finally became able to alter my relationship with my own consciousness, what I believe is both the main catalyst & the number one sign of my continued striving for wellness. As I just passed my two-year mark of my wife leaving, my last major hospitalization, & my proper bipolar I diagnosis, I wanted to do a check-in of my symptoms, specifically how I relate to my triggers now & what regular actions help mitigate those symptoms.

Rage Attacks -- This was the giant problem that loomed, the inner switch that turned me from nice guy to demon real fast. Once off the Fluoxetine (turns out anti-depressants can cause random hypomanic episodes in patients with bipolar disorder) & on my other meds (antipsychotics & mood stabilizers), I saw a drastic decrease in frequency (only a couple in two years vs. one or two a month before) & severity (I don't black out like I used to; these rage attacks are less "random" & easier to contextualize). But the biggest helper in managing my "anger problem" has been my mindfulness practice; you can read more about that here.

Hypo / Mania -- When not inducing aggressive outbursts, this symptom often sent me soaring, becoming prolific in writing poems or cleaning house, but it also left me susceptible to poor decision-making (like putting myself in triggering situations or around unsupportive people), impulse control problems (particularly with alcohol & sex), & major energy crashes (which kept me from working a "normal" job). I still struggle with mood swings that throw me towards mania, but knowing the cause & effects allows me to keep myself out of triggering situations--large crowds, late nights, money-oriented or sexual situations. 

Depressive -- When I was mismedicated & my psychotic symptoms & mood swings were running rampant, I was very mania-heavy. Now, my symptoms lead me to be more prone to depressive spells. Every couple months, I "bottom out," succumbing to great exhaustion & emotional down swings. If I take two or three unscheduled days to rest as needed, let out any pent-up emotions (lots of big cries & some screaming/pillow-punching), & slowly, gently rebuild my energy reserves, I'm fine for a few months. 

Psychotic symptoms -- It wasn't until a few months ago that I could really see how disordered my thinking was before, overwhelmed with delusions, paranoia, & hallucinations. I was haunted by ambient noises & shadows. I was often unable to read facial expressions & voice tones properly, unable to grasp the nuance of social & interpersonal situations, causing frustration & conflict both within myself & person-to-person. Ultimately, I fell victim to self-fulfilling prophecies, poor mind-reading, & catastrophizing. Now, thanks to a better relationship with my own mind, I'm able to have better relationships with others, ones more based in compassionate reality.

Anxiety around Abandonment/Embarrassment -- As a college student in therapy, I latched onto an understanding that nearly all of my anxiety was based on fears of being abandoned &/or embarrassed, nerves that fed many of my other symptoms. Still, it took me nearly a decade to figure out how to avoid the triggers of these feelings. This anxiety got heightened in the mid 2010's after being outted as mentally ill (when I was still figuring out exactly what that meant to me) in the poetry community & blacklisted as a result. Later, after my wife left, I lost another community, as the majority of our shared friends & family ghosted me (no judgement, just noting). Luckily, through my mindfulness practice, regular exercise, a better relationship to alcohol, & an improved sleep routine, I've been able to decrease that anxiety very much. Recent EMDR work around those traumatic losses has relieved much of that tension as well, allowing me to focus on managing my disorder, instead of the stress around it.

Looking back on these strides I've made, I'm very proud of the work I've put into these past two years. There were times the suffering seemed endless. There are still days the symptoms feel like too much to bear. But with a healthy routine (holy trio of rest, reflect, & rejuvenate) & great support, I've been able to find a healthier, happier path, & for that, I'm bursting with gratitude. 

Last fall, after self-publishing my latest book of poems, I ONCE WAS SOMEONE ELSE & OFTEN STILL AM, I decided to step away from "public writing," ceasing this blog, pausing my podcast, & no longer worrying about plopping poems into the world. I realized I didn't have a good relationship with writing anymore, most notably that I was still trying to live in the same paradigm within which I was writing years previous, while I was heavily engulfed by my mental illness & also still involved in the larger poetry / writing community. 

​Back then, in the early 2010's, my identity was 100% wrapped up in my position as a writer, mainly a poet, but also an editor, a performer & a community member. I was editing a cool indie mag, assisting with one of my favorite small presses, running a reading series, performing a couple times a month, publishing across the scene (including my first book to soon be released by another of my favorite presses),  & about to enter my dream MFA program to study with my favorite poet. I was stoked, but I also had a chip on my shoulder, a small-town hick kid bewilderingly having some "success" in academic & artistic worlds that once seemed so out of my reach.

Quickly, that all fell apart, thanks to my behavior linked to my bipolar disorder. In the spring of 2014, I physically assaulted my girlfriend-at-the-time during a mania-induced, rage attack, an episode I still don't remember. Eventually, she went public about this incident, & the majority of my writing community shunned me--publications were pulled, opportunities were eliminated, connections were cut.

Deserved or not, it was devastating on multiple levels. The embarrassment & the heartbreak was enormous, & the void left by that identity being stripped away was glaring. I fumbled to retain some sort of "public writing figure" status, self-publishing & blogging & podcasting to keep that inner urge of self fulfilled. Still, the sharp drop in "readership" & lack of real public presence left me feeling like a loser. 

Then I got to know Ram Dass. His pioneering spiritual work often centered around the idea of the ego. In his lectures & writings, I witnessed what the true problem was. It had nothing to do with the community that cast me out, or the lack of a public platform, or my writing itself. It was about attachment. It was about leading with the ego, the story I'm telling myself, instead of what he calls "loving awareness," that presence that just is, open & essential.

I didn't know it at the time, but that was what I was attempting to correct last fall when I stepped away from these endeavors: the necessary step in rebuilding my life of detaching from my ego. I no longer want to write to have fans or get accolades, to change the world or have special experiences. Those aspects might be positive by-products down the road, but I am now all about letting what is be. I'm not interested in being a writer, a poet, a podcaster, a public figure. I want to create because language & ideas send an electricity through & eventually back out me, naturally, spiritually.

Still, that ego wants its taste every now & then. The other night was the first seasonal event for our local disc golf club's single league. Some of the players were complimenting my essay in the new issue of the PDGA's magazine (see below), & the director of that league kindly noted how I'm "a professional writer now." My ego jumped straight up, wanting to assert that in fact I've been a professional writing for many years now, having published a book, gotten a fellowship to a top MFA program, blah blah blah. Though I was able to wrangle that impulse, simply saying "yes, it feels nice" (also true), it was then, I knew, the work isn't over, as it never is, the journey to free myself of an attachment to ego just begun.

I must continue to cultivate an awareness that recognizes that desire & shifts the focus back to the natural energy of these endeavors. I'm posting again on this blog as a complementary act to my journey  managing my bipolar disorder. I'm podcasting again, this time with my galpal Beth, vulnerably & honestly exploring our "opposites attract" relationship. I'm writing for the public sphere again, essays about mental health now, not to gain recognition or fulfill a role, but in order to advocate for myself & others with this illness. 

Below is a photo of my first published piece in many years, an essay about how my local disc golf course & community saved my life after my mental health tanked & my wife left in early 2020. It appears in the latest issue of DiscGolfer magazine. 

​