Control Yourself

I've been posting the opening of a book I'm working on.  Here's the next section:

Much of what I recommend as a path toward wellness involves great self-discipline and some self-sacrifice. But I realized early in my practice that if the discipline and sacrifice were too severe, my efforts would border on ascetic austerity.  That’s not necessary. 

Ground rule number three is: Exercise self-discipline but keep it gentle.

Don't Stop Your Meds; Keep Seeing Your Therapist

Here's the second ground rule from the book I'm working on:

Ground rule number two: Keep taking your meds and keep seeing your doctor and/or therapist.

I maintain, and insist, that meditation, movement and meaningful work are adjunct therapies.  I believe they are absolutely necessary to manage mental illness, so in this sense one may think of them as primary therapies.  I just don’t want to imply that they will replace medication and psychotherapy.

Don't Say, "I Am Mentally Ill"

I'm working on a book about using meditation, movement and meaningful work to manage mental illness.  It begins with five ground rules necessary to establish a positive, helpful practice and overcome a mental illness.  Here's number one:

Before practicing therapies to get over a mental illness, some ground rules must be set. The first involves your relationship with your disease.  How do you relate to your mental illness, and how do you describe yourself?

Language can have a powerful influence over self-definition, revelation, and healing.  The way we describe ourselves and our condition speaks volumes about our outlook and our outcomes.  I was diagnosed decades ago with bipolar disorder, I still adhere to treatment, and I still suffer occasional mood changes.  Yet I strongly maintain that I am not bipolar.

Rejecting or Embracing the Sacred in Meditation

A version of this post appears on my blog for PsychCentral, "Getting Older with Bipolar."

I spent the weekend at my parents’ house in the mountains, very quiet, and found the entire secularization of sacred traditions troubling.  I thought about the way I’ve been teaching meditation.

I recently taught a class in creative contemplation that was based on Lectio Divina, or divine reading.  It is a practice undertaken by contemplative Christians and monks in which one completely surrenders to the voice of God as inspired by a line of scripture.  

I have no real allegiance to Christianity, other than my upbringing, and I presented the practice as a completely secular way to meditate.  Many modern meditative and contemplative forms are presented this way.
  

What to Do With All of These Thoughts

It’s easy to say that when meditating one should focus on the breath and release thoughts as they arise, but it’s incredibly difficult to do.  I’ve been a bit hypomanic lately, and ideas are flying through my head.  Concentration and attention are very difficult.  Acknowledging thoughts and letting them go is hard enough on a good day.  What do I do now?

During mindfulness meditation you keep your attention on your breath, but you want to be fully aware in this moment.  So you still take note of sounds and smells, aches and pains, all that makes up the present.  When thoughts arise the instructions are to notice them, let them go, and return to the breath.  But to just blot out thoughts without paying attention to them would not be very mindful at all.  Don’t ignore your thoughts, work with them.

Why Work?

I’m grateful we have a social safety net.  It’s important to help people pull themselves up, and to provide care for those who cannot support themselves because of serious disability.  The net may not be cast broad enough, as too many people who need help are denied services.  That said, the most important thing that led to my recovery from serious mental illness was being denied Social Security Disability Income. 

Acceptance, Part Three

Limitations.  We all have them, but sometimes illness adds new ones that we never before had to deal with.  Accepting this fact was a challenge.

When I was hit by one episode that left me psychotic, suicidal, and hospitalized I was 31 and had just been promoted to VP of Sales at the company for which I worked.  An incorrect diagnosis and my poor response to the medications prescribed, as well as my refusal to accept mental illness and my subsequent noncompliance with my doctors’ orders, left me reeling for years.  I fell into a string of small jobs, just to keep health insurance, and checked into and out of psychiatric hospitals several times.  The hole in my resume became so large, and my ability to deal with stress so frail, that it became clear that I was not going back to the executive suite, probably never.  The effect that stress had on my moods, and the moods themselves, severely limited the amount of responsibility I could handle in any job.