I’m Thankful For My Bipolar Diagnosis

You may find it surprising, but I’m actually thankful for my bipolar diagnosis. My dad—who struggled with bipolar disorder his whole life—died by suicide when I was 24. Four years after I lost him, I experienced my first major depression. I had a delayed reaction to his death because it was so traumatic for me. That was when I myself was diagnosed bipolar.

At the time, the diagnosis was terrifying. It felt like a death sentence. I just kept asking myself, “Will I end up dying by suicide too?”

My whole life, I’d struggled with inexplicable impulsivity, racing thoughts, irritability, and tumultuous relationships. I’d always known something was wrong with me, but I didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t until I had a psychological evaluation, underwent therapy and found the right mood-stabilizing medication that I was able to find answers. I finally had a name for the tornado that had been raging in my head for as long as I could remember. My bipolar diagnosis has ultimately made me stronger.

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Daddy Issues: A Memoir

My memoir has been published!
It’s now available on Amazon.

If you subscribe to Amazon Kindle Unlimited, my book is available for free through their program as well.

I want to wholeheartedly thank everyone for their support.
I hope you enjoy reading my book.

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Accepting the Grey Spaces Help Us to See the Light

A Guest Blog From Alexis Zinkerman
of A Mile A Minute

It is grand larceny to waste away the dull moments in life. Mania allows us to fill the dull spaces with everything. But true happiness is a balance of white, dark and grey spaces.

My memory often fails me as part of my illness. It feels fragmented like a dream. Since being diagnosed bipolar 1 25 years ago, it has been a long struggle for stability. Sometimes I feel I’m in a spin class rapid cycling to the loud beat of several different tunes. My motormouth was always on green light going miles for every minute.

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5 Ways I Keep Myself Focused

Last week, something frightening happened to me. I was talking to a friend about Downton Abbey—a TV show we both love—when I couldn’t remember one of the main character’s names. I pictured him clearly, and I could describe everything about his experiences on the show. He’s my favorite character, but I just couldn’t recall his name to save my life. I racked my brain, but I was stuck. The harder I tried to focus, the blanker my mind became. Before you say to yourself “Oh, I’ve done that, it’s not so scary,” consider this: I usually have a perfect memory for things like movie titles, and actor and character names. This was way out of the ordinary for me. I don’t know about you, but because I live with bipolar disorder, any potential disruption in my thought patterns worries me. It could be an indication of an impending episode, and that’s not something I take lightly.

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Why Triggers Matter

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in front of my computer in my home office cranking out a poster design for a movie set, when I noticed my leg was extremely itchy. I reached down and scratched it, then felt the itch move up to my hip and then my torso. Soon my entire body tingled uncomfortably, but I couldn’t stop to figure out what was wrong. I had urgent deadlines to meet, and I was already overwhelmed with more work than I could handle. I ignored it. I didn’t have time to take care of myself or even think about my needs.

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Print or e-book?

Hello dear blog readers! It’s been a minute since I’ve shown my face around here, I’ve been working long hours lately, but it’s coming to a close in July 2021.

I have some exciting news: I’m taking the plunge and self-publishing my book!

On that note, I have a question for all of you: would you be more likely to buy Daddy Issues as a print or an e-book? The price points won’t be much different, I’m just curious which format you prefer.

You can post your answer as a comment on this post.

Thanks everyone for your ongoing support and encouragement. Stay tuned…

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Personality or Bipolar?

The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator has been used for everything from psychological assessment to career guidance. My mom is a psychotherapist who has access to the full Myers-Briggs personality test. When I was in high school, I begged her to let me take it. I was dying to find out who I was, and how I fit into the world. The instructions said to answer without analyzing or thinking too much, so I excitedly responded to each question based on my gut instinct of who I knew myself to be—at least at that point in my life. Once the score was tallied, I was designated ENFJ—short for extrovert, intuitive, feeling judging. I came out not just as an extrovert, but on the extreme end of the scale between I (introvert) and E. Of course, it made sense on paper. I had a lot of friends. I was a happy, fun-loving person who adored attention. I was one of those people who could walk up to strangers at a party and introduce myself. And—no joke—my first word wasn’t “mama” or “dada,” it was “hi.” The more time I spent around others, the more invigorated I felt. My personality test solidified my self-confidence.

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