An Episode
I’m just coming out of a depressive bipolar II episode. Let me share what it is like for you.
The exhaustion hit me last Sunday. I had gone for a 10-mile run with my friend Emily early in the morning. I honestly thought I was over my bipolar II depression. It had already been going on for close to two weeks, but I had gotten out on my mountain bike on Saturday and was very bubbly. Things were looking up. Emily and I did not run hard. We had the pups with us, so the route included a lot of water stops. I even took a gel. We had done this same run several times this summer at a faster clip and I hadn’t needed to fuel any of those other days. But I was being conservative, because I knew I was still coming out of an atypical depressive episode. When I got home from the run, I was EXHAUSTED.
For atypical depression, one of the symptoms is 'leaden paralysis'. While on a normal day I can go run ten miles or ride for three hours no problem, when I have atypical depression I can barely move. At home I'll stare straight ahead because turning my head to take in my full surroundings is challenging. The other night I couldn’t even stand in the shower. I just sat on the floor with my head leaning back against the shower bench. Early on in this latest episode I was sitting on the floor upstairs when Kennett asked if I wanted to go for a walk. He was trying to encourage movement. He is my biggest support and the only person who fully understands how to help me. The idea of a walk was so exhausting I just tipped over and laid in a ball on the floor crying. My bed was right next to me, but the floor is grounding. There is a safety in the hardness, that I cannot possibly fall any further down.
Atypical depression does not necessarily come with “feeling depressed”, but over the course of an episode I do become more traditionally depressed. I consider myself an athlete and a hard-working person and I mourn those lost traits during an episode. It halts my life. I do the bare minimum for work so that I don’t let anyone down, but most of my life drops to the wayside. I cry a lot. Sometimes I cry out of frustration, sometimes out of pure exhaustion. The naps I take during an episode are unique. . . I call them my bipolar comas. One of the best things I can do is sleep off an episode by taking long naps. If I take enough of these naps, eventually one of them will snap me out of an episode. I'll wake up feeling almost normal and then the work becomes trusting myself again.
About 30 percent of me believes my brain chemicals are off, about 70 percent of me believes that the world we have created for ourselves is broken. This particular episode has been triggered by stressful world and community-level events. One thing I know for sure, I am not alone in struggling through this world. One of the beautiful things about bipolar II is that it helps me connect with others who have health limitations. And despite what it may seem like on social media, difficult days are part of being human.
There is a cat in the nearby neighborhood that we named "Jules" about two years ago. During this latest episode, a highlight of my day would be a slow evening walk to say hi to Jules and the squirrels.