March 30th is Bipolar Awareness Day! We take this opportunity to help you gain new insights into serious mental illnesses from the perspective of individuals living with it. Starting this month, it’s our pleasure to introduce you to our first contributor. Her name is Celine Ruscher and the following story describes a hypomanic episode experienced during the early stage of her journey with Bipolar Disorder.
“The rain drops flowed on the bus window yesterday. I was amazed by the colors, red, green, blue, yellow, orange…This rainbow was sparkling in my head. My inner clock was running fast. The city heart did not beat fast enough. I loved the sound of the tires on the wet road. But this bus was far too slow. Maybe my electric body will start floating as my soul above the ground to capture the secret of the universe at some point. I am seeing the magnificence of the world, and I want to share it with everyone.”
“You must go to the emergency.” I have not slept more than a few hours per night for more than a week. The energy is difficult to manage. My reactions are too intense. I have dozens of ideas, but I cannot initiate any of them. I speak, too much and too fast. I know something is off, but the world looks so beautiful now.
“You must go to the emergency.” I trust her judgement. She is the psychologist in the room after all. She knows better than I. She is there from the beginning and has always managed to keep some stability in the storm.
I call my husband. One hour later we are in the ER waiting room of the Lions Gate Hospital. He asks: “How have we reached this point?” I look at his face. Uncertainties. Fears.
The comment hurts. I am not doing anything wrong. My life fell apart months ago and I am only trying to survive taking one medication after the other. This state is also pleasant. He has no clue, but I understand from where he comes from. Fortunately, the agitation in my mind redirects my attention towards the dance of the medical equipment. Everything is fascinating. The sounds, the lights, nurses are going faster than that bus. My husband says: “Stop. Could you be less agitated for a moment?” I argue. But he does not want to enter the game to help me release the internal pressure.
It’s my turn. Two psychiatrics nurses come to discuss with me. They asked questions that I don’t remember. I was expecting something more psychiatric. It was quite boring. They asked me whether I was feeling comfortable going back home with my husband. Fair question. My reaction was in between laughing and fear. I don’t want to be with anyone else during that time. What if he decides to leave me because of the symptoms? But he is there when I left the interview room. Waiting for me, worried as usual, and relieved that the process of having an appointment with a psychiatrist is moving on finally.
What did I get from that visit? Some antipsychotics to sleep, a referral to the Hope Centre, and the certainty that nothing changed. My supportive husband simply said; “It is what it is.”
This is the beginning of sharing my insightful journey filled with surprises and disappointments. I look forward to offering more insights about my lived experience with bipolar disorder. – Celine Ruscher
In order to offer you additional support, we would like to hear back from you. Starting with the next edition, we’re offering a Q & A section for caregivers. If you have specific questions or inquiries about living with mental illness, please send them to familysupport@pathwayssmi.org and we will do our best to address them in a future newsletter.