Messengers.

The tide turns. It always does. I’m through the worst of the storm. The waters are calmer. I’m still under the close supervision of my psychiatrist and his team but they will soon fade into the background. Always waiting for the next time they will be called into action. Hopefully not for a few years. Not in full force at any rate.

One of the hardest things to accept with a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder is that the mood swings will keep coming. Despite the best of precautions, there will be highs and lows outside the experience of most people. There will be difficult days. Some I can manage myself. Some will need professional assistance. Crucially, always I need the support of others. I never do it on my own.

My psychiatrist would talk of “triggers”. Conditions and circumstances that cause enough stress on my mental health to lead to instability. That lead inevitably to meltdown. I’ve started seeing my psychotherapist again. It’s been a while. I appreciate his guidance through the web of my thoughts. Together we try to decipher the triggers and he helps me discover solutions. He doesn’t fix my problems. He helps me see with clarity. Then I can fix them myself.

Many circumstances have contrived to make my mood disorder flare up. To make my life unmanageable. Collectively they could be described as excessive stress. In retrospect the progression looks obvious. Patently obvious.

I heard it described recently, in a podcast, that there is a hidden message in depression. Our brain is telling us that we have spent too much time striving to achieve and not enough on creative activities that soothe us. That’s a very simplified version of the message. But in essence, there is imbalance and we are getting an opportunity to straighten our lives.

Looking back, I can see how the stress built up. Long hours at work, lack of sleep, no exercise and problems at home outside of my control. It was no one event rather a succession that drove me out of control.

But there is good news. Many of these factors can be altered. I have no one but myself to blame if I continue to work excessive hours. I have a degree of control over that. I didn’t realise it was a problem. I needed to be shown. Depression opened my eyes. Now it’s up to me to solve it.

And simply by freeing up time I’m in a better position to approach the other stresses in my life. I can exercise, I can meditate and I can spend time with friends albeit on Zoom for the moment. Having spent more time at home lately, I’m convinced that the problems at home are not insurmountable. All this just by deciding to work less. It’s a no-brainer.

I’m deeply grateful to many people for helping me to survive this episode. For making it easier. My family, my Buddhist friends but particularly to my colleagues at work. All have carried me. All have kept me company. All have shown me love and compassion.

But I am also grateful to depression. If I had my time over I would still chose Bipolar Disorder over many other types of illness. It continually opens my eyes. It teaches me. I hope the next lesson isn’t for a while. I have taken enough exams for now. School is out.

Maybe all illnesses are the same. Maybe every time we hit a low point we are given a chance to adjust the path of our lives? Maybe when we are forced to slow down that the fog lifts?

Maybe suffering is the greatest messenger. And suffering can be overcome. You just need faith.