Whoa, Whose Life is This?

A Woman Living With Bipolar Disorder

by E. Oroki Rice

Since childhood I’d carried a gnawing feeling that I was different, strange, weird, unlike anyone else I knew. I tried to cover these feelings with extreme passivity. I lived in fear of peeking at the demon inside of me. I knew that if it were released it was sure to drive me mad.

During my teens I connected with others on the path to freedom of my people living on the African continent and in the African Diaspora. The Movement provided guidelines and boundaries to keep the monster inside at bay. By age thirty I was what appeared to be happily married, a mother of three, a homeowner, and teaching elementary school. I abruptly told my husband I wanted out of what he thought was an idyllic marriage. I pursued a life of hedonism which quickly led me down the path to drug addiction.

This was no easy accomplishment. My friends, family and work associates knew me to be practical, dedicated; one who could be counted on. Before this switch had gone off in my head, I was. Six months after my introduction to drugs I was in a rehab center. There I woke up to the mess I’d created for me and everyone in my life. This included my now ex-husband, my three daughters, my students, everyone who crossed my path.

However, I was one of the fortunate ones. Twelve-step recovery, along with a newfound spiritual awakening allowed me freedom from addiction for close to seventeen years. I was once again blessed with a wonderful life. I took it for granted that the nightmare was over.

Then came menopause. Everything I’d been grateful for, those gifts that a recovering lifestyle had provided me appeared to go into hiding. Usually a jovial, encouraging, grateful woman, I could not stop crying. My once bright life turned dark, some days darker than before drugs. I gave up, I gave in, and I scrambled back onto the roller coaster ride that accompanies drug addiction.

I stepped back onto the ride, back to the hell that had brought nothing but pain, destruction and despair in the past. I wanted off but could not gather the strength to remove myself. Again my loved ones watched me destroy my life. The unsullied reputation I’d manage to regain was thrown right out the window. Again I found myself in the gutter. This time it was worse.

In 2004, three years into the downward spiral, I began to research and realized I had the symptoms of bipolar disorder. A psychiatrist gave me the diagnosis that I feared was due. I did not want to accept this. After all, I’m smart, I’m spiritual, I’m a social-activist! I did not cooperate with medical and therapeutic counsel.

From December 2001until March 2006 I intermittently strolled the path of demise with self-destruction. I was jailed and successfully completed drug treatment three times. I’ve lost track of the unsuccessful attempts of rehabilitation and mental hospitals. The ugly scenarios that led to jail and treatment created total havoc for the many who loved and trusted me.

Today I accept and choose to believe in the reality of my mental illness, bipolar disorder. If it goes untreated I will surely step right back onto 'The Boulevard of No Return'. I am positive that should I stray again I will not survive.

I’ve chosen to use my past to help others. My work is to eradicate the shame associated with mental illness. I did not wake up one day and decide to be a drug addict, to have mental illness, to humiliate and dishonor my family, to hurt others who believed in and admired me.

The summer of 2006 I was working to grasp an understanding of my condition. I was under extreme emotional, intellectual, and spiritual pressure while housed in a treatment facility that placed emphasis on rehabilitation through shaming. During an outside session with one of my wonderful psychiatrists Dr. Linda Oakley, she told me that she believed that I would cut off an arm in order to not have this disorder. I cried when she told me this because for so long I needed someone to believe in me, to have compassion, and understand that I had been powerless regarding the choices that had led me to this painful point in my life.

I’ve been asked what I would change about my life if I had such power. As crazy as this may sound, my reply is nothing. My only regrets are related to the harm I’ve caused others. Today I know deep in my heart I’ve needed each experience, each drop of pain and shame to build the character of the woman I am today. There are even some advantages to having this condition.

Please don’t misunderstand me. All of the above symptoms can be warnings that I am entering full-blown mania. This is at minimum dangerous for my particular form of this condition. It is sure to be followed by an episode of dark depression which will go on to drug use. Knowing this, I live by guidelines that insist on honesty about how I’m feeling and what I am doing to those in my support system. These people can see me as I can’t see myself. These allies make suggestions to me before I’m too far gone. Easily accepting suggestions from others when I am living high on life  is not one of the traits that come with this disorder.

I tell you this story to put a face on bipolar disorder. I want you to know that those of us who have this illness are more than our illness. I am a mother, a sister, a grandmother, a friend, an activist, a student, a healer, a writer. I am Oroki. --

KNOW MORE ABOUT BIPOLAR DISORDER!

What is bipolar disorder?

Bipolar disorder is a treatable (not curable at this time) illness marked by extreme changes in mood, thought, energy, and behavior. Bipolar disorder is also known as manic depression because a person’s mood can alternate between the “poles”; mania (highs) and depression (lows). The change in mood can last for hours, days, weeks, or months.

What bipolar is not

Bipolar disorder is not a character flaw or sign of personal weakness.

Who bipolar disorder affects

Bipolar disorder affects more than two million adult Americans (many children have this disorder too). An equal number of men and women develop this illness. Bipolar is found among all ages, races, ethnic groups, and social classes. The illness tends to run in families and appears to have a genetic link.

This information is provided from the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA). For more information, please call (800) 826-3632 or log on to www.dbsalliance.org.

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About the Author:  Oroki Rice, a Chicago born social-activist, is the founder of Hands From My Heart, a healing ministry for broken-hearted men, women & children. Oroki is a performing artist, a published writer, retreat facilitator, former preschool and elementary school teacher. The focus of her ministry engages her creative gifts: using spoken & written word, body movement, and music in the healing process. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin Odyssey Project, she is currently in the final stages of completing a BS in Applied Behavioral Sciences at National Louis University, Chicago. Oroki thrives on advancing her professional skills, promoting healing in the areas of child abuse, family violence, disparity in race relations, and inequality of the sexes. As a survivor of abuse, drug addiction, mental illness and incarceration, Oroki speaks from firsthand experience. Personal and collective spiritual wholeness is her goal.

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