The next stop on our bipolar express?
Another thing we should either halt or put a harness on:
Alcohol.
We just covered sugar and why it’s a healthless devil we should exorcise from our diet. How it affects our bipolar disorder just as much as our bodies. (Especially when added to a caffeinated latte.) And now… we’ll cover another vice that’s difficult for many to avoid: alcohol. Now, I list this (and sugar) under “stuff to stop”. What I mean, though, is: stop if you need to. Moderate if you can. (Being honest with yourself about what “moderation” means.) I say this as a wine lover myself. But I say it as a wine lover who quit all chemicals, including pharmaceutical prescriptions for five years and only resumed enjoying wine once I’d learned the meaning of balance. I say it as a wine lover to knows when to quit. Knows how to abstain for extended periods without issue. Knows her limit. I didn’t always – but I learned and now it’s easy to say no or cut myself off.
Usually.
I’m human and I have days, like anyone, where I do overdo it.
Then I spend day number next (and next… and maybe next) recovering. Not just physically, mind you, either. It’s like a half week long emotional as well as somatic hangover. I’m depressed. Hopeless. Devoid of motivation. Don’t want to work. Crabby with my patients and coworkers. Terrible to my partner (when I have one). Remiss on my chores, tasks, and errands that are absolutely necessary. I do the bare minimum and abscond to my hovel in between commitments. This is something that gets normalized via memes that laugh it off as a human experience. Everyone jokes about how “after 30, it takes a full week to recover from a night out”. To a degree, it’s true. But, I’ve found that when I can moderate – and make a glass last a little longer, then I A.) don’t have to limit myself to when I go out, B.) don’t take as long to recover, and C.) don’t necessarily generate a potentially detrimental episode. That’s strictly speaking for me. Some people are straight up emotionally allergic to the stuff.
I’ve just learned, with time, that a couple of glasses of wine is more than plenty for me and my disorder. Because, at the end of the day, alcohol is a depressant, indeed. Sure, I can deal with it when it’s just me, handling life on my own. If I’m suffering from a fun weekend, NBD. I just hide in my cave, watching reruns of some comfort show while my soul tries to wander back to my body, all the while avoiding conversation or human contact, with the exception of text messages where I can fake a personality. (Great way to live, am I right?) But that was my “end of the week reward”, ya know? I wasn’t gonna give that up.
It just… it wasn’t feeling like a reward anymore.
Especially when I finally had a romantic partner I couldn’t hide from.
Just ask either party of my last relationship (including me, my ex who hid his bipolar from me, and our therapist who we mutually ignored when she told us to limit drinking around each other). We each handled conflict with more elegance when we were sober and clear of mind. (Easily agitated, mind you, but more mindful and considerate about how to handle it – and eachother.) Once under the influence, though, all bets were off. A formerly calm conversation could easily morph into a manic panic where neither of us even had ears to hear one another anymore. For him, the mania might last for days after. For me, it was a Russian roulette where maybe I went manic as well, battled him by text, enjoyed a vitriolic volley by phone call, ran up the credit card, or just ran too much.
Then again, perhaps I’d fall into a fleece swaddled depression, neglecting every necessary task around me. I only do better “drinking alone” as a single person because I’m the type to pour a glass if I’m solo, and sip a quarter before throwing the rest out. (Thus, I never pour a full glass. Alcohol was never the object of my addiction.) In other words, I do better drinking alone because I… don’t drink alone. I do a tasting and then throw money down the drain. However, my tendency has typically been to drink more to feel comfortable around others. Even a significant other. Now, on NAC, I still enjoy my grape potations. I just don’t feel the desperate need to reach for more and more because the supplement keeps me level enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to sit and have conversations or interactions, unfiltered. No need to mask anything. No need to feel more secure. Just, enjoying myself without the worry of when my next glass is gonna come.
Okay, so what if you can’t take NAC?
And what if you are a drinker because your moods swings make you so miserable?
A.) You’re not alone. A large percentage of the bipolar population’s with you.
B.) I was the same way – socially – before I found my fix.