Our Fellow Americans Are Not the Enemy

Like almost everyone else I know, I am devastated by the results of this election. None of us believed it would go this way, so I understand why everyone is shocked. But what discourages me even more than my candidate losing is some of the hateful responses I am seeing on my Facebook feed. Everyone is lamenting that our fellow Americans are so much more racist and sexist and stupid and [insert insult here] than we thought they were.

I would like to suggest a different viewpoint. Consider that we live in a world where we don't trust our mainstream media, so we turn to social media and alternative news sources as our window to the outside world. But remember that our Facebook feeds and Google results are filtered to show us everything that we already believe. And alternative news sources are unabashedly biased, which is fine since they aren't trying to hide it, but we understandably choose the ones we already agree with and that doesn't exactly provide a new perspective.

The liberals and progressives and conservatives and the alt-right -- we all live in our own respective echo chambers. Hillary Clinton accused Trump of living in his own reality, and maybe that was just meant to be a jab, but it's painfully true. He created an alternative reality and took half of America with him. And those of us on the liberal side don't understand it because we simply don't experience it. We are not exposed to the rhetoric they hear all day, every day. Sure, we get soundbites of Trump's hateful language and play them on a loop, but that is all he is to us. Do you think the media spread by the alt-right focuses on those moments? I highly doubt that. Just as our media doesn't focus on all the moments where Hillary was caught flip-flopping or lying or anything else that goes with being the establishment politician that Trump supporters hate.

You might say that their sins are not comparable, but that is a matter of priorities and of presentation. I'm with those that hold civil rights above all, so I am willing to compartmentalize and overlook Hillary's greasiness as a politician. But I would like to make the argument that most Americans who voted for Trump did not do so because they are racist and sexist. In their world, those aspects of his message were played down. They voted for him for many of the same reasons that I supported Bernie in the primary: they are sick of the establishment and see him as a leader who will tear down or at least subvert the current system. They think that a Trump presidency will bring them more jobs and ultimately a better quality of life. Unfortunately they are most likely wrong about that.
As for his hatefulness? I think some of Trump's supporters got carried away with it, but many of them just saw it and preferred to look away. Not because they agree, but because they are too burdened with their own problems and with the incredible fear that has been instilled in them. They would rather focus on the positives that Trump has promised. Yes, it is a selfish choice, but those are the choices we tend to make when we are struggling. It's much easier to fight for the rights of other people when you are living in a diverse environment and have a steady income. That is not the case for many Trump supporters, especially in rural America.

I'm obviously not saying that I support or even condone this choice. I believe that we have made a huge mistake as a nation, and we have a lot of work to do. I'm just saying it was a choice made out of fear but also, believe-it-or-not, hope. It did not come from evil. Nothing good will come from hating our fellow Americans. The problem is that we've forgotten how to listen to each other. We can only breach this divide with compassion and respect.

Yes and No -- My Path So Far

Yes, I went to a small private high school and a small private university.

Yes, I worked my ass off to make straight As and graduated summa cum laude.

Yes, I was a successful web developer in the Bay Area.

Yes, I was dedicated to my work and I was very good at it.

And yes, my talent was appreciated by both my mentors and peers, and everyone agreed that I had a bright future in Silicon Valley.

But no, I wasn't happy.

I had done everything right and had reached the end of a long and difficult road. I was finally making enough to pay back my student loans and save money while living comfortably and sharing expenses with my live-in boyfriend. Here was supposed to be my reward for the years of stress and work, of living a type-A lifestyle while feeling internally like a type-B personality. When all is said and done, the only explanation that feels true is that I got tired.

Yes, I became severely depressed.

Yes, I left my job and didn't seriously pursue another.

Yes, I allowed myself to become entirely dependent on a man to support me financially.

Yes, I isolated myself from my friends and family.

And yes, I went crazy.

Yes, I had a psychotic break. 

Yes, I was hospitalized in a psychiatric ward. 

Yes, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. 

I was prescribed medication after medication, trying different dosages and combinations to find the right cocktail that would work for me. I was starting to feel better for just a few weeks before my mood took a nosedive. I spent months lying on the couch watching Netflix, with daily bouts of crying. I was deeply depressed and questioning everything about my life, my self, my world. I could see no way out of this misery. I felt as though all the best and most exciting moments of my life were over, and now I was a different person, a broken person of no real value to the world. I did not attempt suicide, but I contemplated it more than I ever had before. 

Somehow I made it though the worst part. Slowly things started getting better. And when I say slowly I mean sloooooowly. 

Now I've hit a wall because I don't know how to step back out into the world, especially here in the Bay Area. I don't know how to face people, strangers and friends alike. I feel like I would have to explain myself, defend myself against their judgment. Here it seems that everyone I know is starting their own business, or working on a bunch of side projects, going to conventions and constantly networking. And here I am: unemployed for almost two years with no end in sight, barely leaving the house and doing nothing of value with my time. How dare I? What is wrong with me? 

I ask myself these things all the time. I have come up with some answers but so far I have been afraid to express them. There are realities about who I am that I have a hard time accepting. How can I expect others to accept me when I judge myself so harshly? 

Yes, I am unemployed.  

No, I am not planning to get a job anytime soon, and I'm not sure if I will ever work a full-time job again.  

Yes, I have a real disability that affects my ability to work. 

No, it is not because I'm lazy. 

Yes, I am a homemaker.

No, I don't want kids, at least not in the foreseeable future. 

Yes, I am financially supported by my loving boyfriend.

No, I am not taking advantage of him.  

Someday I hope to be able to declare these facts, and to truly believe them without shame. I hope to be comfortable with my place in life, and confident about who I am as my circumstances change. I hope that I will not feel the need to hide. 

Coming Out with Mental Illness

Hey guys, guess what I found out recently? I'm not just depressed... I'm bipolar!

Depending on how well you know me, I imagine you might have one of the two following reactions:

1. What... really? No way! Ok well... that's sucks.

2. Oh... oh?? Oh! Well that actually explains a lot...

At least, these are the most common responses I've heard when telling my friends one-on-one. Most of them had witnessed me in a depressed state before, but most couldn't remember ever seeing me in a manic state. This is not surprising, considering that I didn't even recognize my own hypo-manic episodes when they were happening!

There is also a vast spectrum of knowledge about bipolar disorder even within my well-educated, intellectual friend groups. Some people have heard of it but don't know what it means. Others have lots of personal or family experience with bipolar or a similar mood disorder. Even those that are familiar with the disease seem to have a lot misconceptions about it. Since my own diagnosis, I've already felt the weight of the social stigma associated with mood disorders and mental illness in general. As a result I am considering getting involved in mental health advocacy, and this blog post is my first step.

Eventually I would like to tell "my story" in full, but since I am still piecing it together for myself through a new perspective, I'm not sure where to start. So instead I will answer some questions that I anticipate from my community:

Why are you telling us this?

I've always been a very public person. Back in my livejournal days, I would publish even my most emotional posts publicly for the whole Internet to see. Now I tend to use a little more discretion, but the principle is the same: I like to wear my heart on my sleeve.

Even during periods of depression, I had no problem admitting to my friends or coworkers that I was depressed. Those around me were usually compassionate and gave me the slack I needed to get through it, because they could tell that underneath this weight of depression was a bright and dedicated person who was trying her best not to let anyone down.

But this! Bipolar disorder?? The moment I heard my new diagnosis, my own stigma kicked in and suddenly I was scared to open up about it. And that is precisely why I need to do it.

I took some time to digest this new information and process it with my close friends, but now it's time for me to take a note from the LGBT community and come out. My reasoning is: the only way we can dissolve this social stigma is by showing the world how many of us capable adults are out there recovering from mental illness.

How did you "find out" you were bipolar?

There is a very long version of this answer that I will not go into in this post, but for now I will try to summarize.

I've been on various antidepressants over the years, but the last one I was prescribed was Effexor. I started taking it in June 2014, and it was extremely effective at pulling me out of one of the worst depressive episodes in my life. What I didn't know at the time was that this type of antidepressant (SNRI) is known to preclude manic episodes in patients with bipolar disorder.

In January 2015, I had my first major manic episode that was clearly identifiable by any mental health professional. It probably began shortly after New Year's Eve, but only spiraled out of control a couple of weeks later. On Tuesday Jan 13th, my therapist made a note that I was behaving strangely and to monitor this in our next session the following week. She had no way of knowing that by Saturday morning I would be in the midst of a full blown delusional manic episode.

I can tell you what that was like another time, but suffice it to say that I was making no sense and behaving so out of character that my boyfriend had no choice but to call 911 and have me taken to Psychiatric Emergency Services. In the emergency room they gave me a shot of Haldol to bring me down, and I spent the next 72 hours under observation in a facility that seemed halfway between a hospital and a prison. I was released Tuesday, January 19th once they were sure that I was lucid, functioning, had a good support system at home and a follow-up appointment with my psychiatrist scheduled the next morning.

Wow... Are you okay?

Actually, yes, thanks for asking! I feel better than okay. The first week or so was really rough, because they took me off of all my existing medications at PES so I was still going through some withdrawal. Also it took a few days for my new medication (only one! A mood stabilizer called Depakote) to kick in.

But now that my meds are getting stable and I've mostly come to terms with my illness, I feel a sense of balance that I don't remember ever having before.

It will take time for me to settle in to this feeling. I suppose that in the past, I've assumed that life would always be such a roller-coaster of ups and downs. Because everyone has those, right? I knew my downs were more pronounced than usual (hence the depression diagnosis) but what I didn't realize was that my ups were not normal either.

I knew how to be depressed without being overly sad, because I knew that depression wasn't really about sadness even if it felt that way. Now, I am learning to be happy without being so intensely excited, because I have realized that ambition and motivation don't have to feel like being on the edge of your seat all the time. Furthermore, when I do get excited about something new, I now recognize that slipping back into depression is not inevitable once the initial excitement wears off.

What are you going to do now?

The short answer is: Recovery. But that's an incredibly ambiguous term that wasn't even widely used in the mental health profession until recently.

From what I understand so far, there has been a shift over the last decade or two amongst some mental health professionals who have decided take a new approach to mental illness. This recovery approach is more akin to recovery from substance abuse and addiction problems than to medical treatment of an illness. Although medication is still an important factor, the focus is to gain self-acceptance and -awareness so that one can identify symptoms early, and to learn coping methods to deal with those symptoms as they occur.

On an individual level, recovery means different things to different people. So far I've identified a few things that I think will work for me:

• Focus on my personal relationships and maintain them in a mutually supportive way. My close friends and family have been invaluable in helping me through my roughest patches and I am so grateful!
• Better define my personal goals and career ambitions. Many of my frustrations in life, and the precursors to both my depressive and hypo-manic episodes have been career-oriented. Upon reflection, I think many of these frustrations were a result of allowing my schooling and most obvious career path to make my decisions for me rather than to pave my own way in the world.
• Help others and give back to my community. While I was still in the psychiatric facility myself, I found myself connecting with the other patients. There was one guy in particular that was very agitated, so I would talk him down and tried to help him remain calm and balanced. I think this says a lot about me, but I will not pretend that this trait is purely altruistic. I'm an extrovert and I rely on other people for support -- both those that are sicker than me at the moment, and those further along in recovery -- but it is much more gratifying to me if I can see that the benefit is mutual.

Sounds good. Anything else we should know?

If there's one thing I've learned recently about mental illness that I would like the world to know, it's this:

It is just so. damn. common.

Wikipedia tells me that "about 3% of people in the United States have bipolar disorder at some point in their life."  That doesn't actually sound like much, but consider that bipolar is on a spectrum of mood disorders that includes everything from mild seasonal affective disorder (SAD) to schizophrenia. Some of these disorders differ from each other only in terms of the level of psychosis observed in the patient.

I feel like most people (my past self included) think of SAD, other depressive disorders, and even bipolar II as one thing, whereas psychosis and schizophrenia are something completely different. It's an us/them mentality, where anyone who has displayed psychosis is immediately part of "them" aka "the real crazies."

Well, I have crossed over that line. If you know me at all, you know that I'm normally very reasonable and rational, and you probably can't imagine me going off the deep end. But I did. I saw the other side and I came back, and now I'm mostly back to my old self. But I was a good case, an easy case, with the right support system in place and access to the right services. Not everyone has that, and it is not their fault. 

There is no Us vs. Them when it comes to mental illness. We are all somewhat broken and maybe we can't be "fixed," but with the right care and support we can all recover and live happy, meaningful lives. 

A Belated New Years Resolution

In the past I've avoided making New Year's Resolutions, probably because I didn't want to make false promises myself. But this year I've decided to make a real change.

So here are my 2015 resolutions:
1. To be more honest with myself.
2. Instead of making promises to myself that I can't keep, find resolutions that I know I can keep.
3. To keep making resolutions.

The reason I can share this commitment with you now is that I've finally committed to myself.

Welp... I could sit here and reflect on this all day but I think I'll just leave it at that for now :)

<3
Carmel