Click below to watch Chris’ video and read his blog below to understand his whole journey:
Chris also wrote an accompanying blog to explain why he now sees being bipolar in a much more positive light. He writes:
“You might be surprised to hear how positive I am about being bipolar. But if I am being honest it hasn’t always been like this. I was first diagnosed with the condition 20 years ago and for the first 15 of those years, the condition very much had its grips over me. Various relapses have caused significant disruption to my life and I’ve had to pull myself out of the depths of bipolar depression too many times to recall. It’s caused me pain, anger, frustration and impeded me from the life I wanted to live. I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t live my life in fear of the next episode. I couldn’t continue letting it decide my fate. The cycle needed to stop and I needed to take back control.
This all started with my last episode nearly five years ago. Work pressures led me to experience high levels of anxiety which in turn triggered my bipolar. My mood started to elevate and I found myself riding on the crest of a bipolar high. But it was different this time than it had been before. Previously my bipolar highs were very short-lived – a few days at most, before tipping the balance in to psychosis. This time I felt in control. I had noticed it. I was conscious of how it made me feel and behave, and I seemed to be able to tame it. Not only that, it didn’t just last a few days, it lasted for several months.
During this time my mind came alive, I felt I could do anything and no-one was getting in my way. I was more confident, decisive and creative. I was more social, energetic and fun. At last, inhibitions that held me back had subsided. I really felt like the best version of me. I took a more commanding role at work and progress picked up. Everything became clear. Solutions to difficult problems were obvious. It felt incredible and I didn’t want it to stop. Maybe bipolar really could be my superpower? I had become Super-Chris!
It turned out that this thing that had haunted me my whole adult life could actually be useful. However, staying in this state wasn’t easy. It was like balancing on a tightrope, yet somehow I was staying up there. And it is this experience I’m telling you about when I describe bipolar in the video.
Alas, sooner or later I would lose my balance and after five somewhat incredible months, I was admitted to a psychiatric ward. I clearly wasn’t quite as ‘in control’ as I thought.
During my recovery I decided that I was going to learn from the experience and use that to master the condition. And when I say that, it wasn’t about trying to control a bipolar high – as much as I’d love to do that, living life that close to the edge is just too risky. I wanted to master bipolar as a whole so that I’d never have to see the inside walls of a psychiatric ward ever again. To do that, I needed to understand it, how it affects me, and also accept it as part of who I am. And the latter, as it turned out, was the hardest part of all.
“Acceptance is not passive resignation to how life is. It’s the recognition that the only way to positively impact the future is to face the truth of what is here right now” – Cory Muscara
Fundamentally, I discovered that I was harbouring self-stigma towards the condition. I couldn’t accept it because I couldn’t admit to it. And I couldn’t admit to it because I felt ashamed of it. And to be ashamed of it made me feel ashamed of being me. I’ve talked more about my path to acceptance in my previous blog.
I’ve spent a lot of time reading about the condition – both books authored by clinicians as well as many other works published by those with their lived experience. There’s a few films and documentaries out there too when you start to look. Understanding other people’s experiences helped me feel less alone. Understanding how they’d learned mastery over the condition inspired me that it could be done. And seeing others talk openly about their condition proved to me that I had no reason to feel ashamed for being who I am.
“I have agonised for many years over whether to make my story public – I have written this book, re-written it, changed the names, changed them back again, written it again under a pseudonym, tried to change it into a novel… Finally, […] matters became clear. This is my story, and I am ready to stand by it. It is a true story and any value that it has for others lies in that fact.” – Louise Gillet, “Surviving Schizophrenia: A Memoir”.
So, I decided I needed to go on a similar journey. I’d been writing journals to help me make sense of things and understand myself better for some time. The next step was to write something that other people would see. I initially started writing blogs for Mary Frances Trust. Then in July 2021 I joined the End Stigma Surrey mental health campaign as a Lived Experience Champion. Yes, I want to end stigma that’s associated with mental health, but it seemed the first person I needed to convince, and teach to live by that motto was me. Then in October 2022 I launched my own website to tell my story – I was now out in the open publishing under my own name. This was a bold and difficult step for me and I agonised over it for months. However, putting my story out there has helped me; I’ve also come to realise that sharing my story is hugely powerful for others too. To help those currently in the grips of a condition but also to raise awareness – particularly of mental health difficulties among men.
The work I’ve done over the last few years has helped me to live a more authentic life. One where I can be completely honest with myself and with those around me. I’m comfortable opening up and talking about my bipolar and I no longer live life in fear of it. I used to be terrified of anyone finding out about my secret. I was even more terrified of a relapse. Now I’m not afraid. My bipolar is part of me and made me who I am. In some ways I feel like I’ve become a better person because of it. Sure, I don’t want another relapse either, but I’m not so terrified if it does. I know how it affects me, what to do and how to recover. Not being scared makes it easier to talk about when I do struggle and this in turn makes me less likely to relapse.”
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