The Art of Riding Low

It is now two months since I started my new medication (Carbamazepine - aka Tegretol). In a bid to find some sort of bearable balance, I have played with increased dosages and decreased dosages. I have taken the medication in higher dose in the evening and lower dose in the morning. I have stopped taking it altogether in the morning and taken the whole daily dose at night. I am so all over the place that I am not even sure whether I am going up and down any more!

Today I am feeling in a 'low mood'. If I try to define what I mean by that, this is what comes to mind:

  • I feel tearful
  • I feel irritated
  • I feel royally fed-up
  • I feel numb
  • I feel tired.

That sounds like depression to me. It feels like depression too. 

So what now? I don't want to write about depression AGAIN. I want to write about....... mastering the art of Riding Low.

If I am totally honest here, there is a certain pleasure to be felt from feeling like this because it is not the deep dark destructive depression I have known. Compared to that, this is a walk in the park and I know I can handle it. And of course it is not the other side of the coin either: no agitation, no hypo-mania. All is quiet on the western front - and on the eastern front too.

This Riding Low stuff is pretty restful. There is no torment to it. It is a bit dull and a bit bland but at least it isn't screaming at me from all sides.

I wonder to what extent we Bi-Polar People get 'addicted' to the violence of our condition, as if we had lived in the eye of the storm for so long that we can't stand it when the wind and the rain aren't constantly beating against our windows. Being people of extremes, we have to re-learn to appreciate the middle ground. Knowing only burning reds and drowning blacks, we are unable to see pastel shades and feel blind instead.

As I am writing this, I am becoming aware that I am feeling better... about the way I feel. You know what I mean by that: nothing has changed and yet everything is different. This is the miracle of being with myself for a while instead of focusing my energy on wanting out: out of my skin, out of my feelings, out of who I am right now.

  • So what if I feel tearful?  I am not sobbing my heart out.
  • So what if I feel irritated?  I am not feeling aggressive.
  • So what if I feel royally fed-up?  I am not feeling suicidal.
  • So what if I feel numb?  I am not feeling disconnected.
  • So what if I feel tired?  I am not feeling exhausted.

So what if I am experiencing a gentle bout of depression? I am not being sucked into the black hole of excruciating torment that is deep depression.

What the hell am I complaining about! Just because I am not riding my bi-polar roller coaster like some demented banshee does not mean I am not fully me, fully alive in this real moment.

There is definitely an art to Riding Low because I am in charge here. When the ride is too high I lose control and the ride rides me. When I ride low, I ride the ride.

Hmm... you know what? I am The Low Rider baby and I like it :D 

Art of Riding Low

Way to go..... love it and live it these days myself BUT I do ask is that because we are more mature. Not likely to have been this graceful when I was 20, 30 or even 40 years of age. BUT - hang on a minute...... I was NOT diagnosed during those years. Bloody unbelievable that at the age of 42 I was STILL being misdiagnosed by the professionals...... sigh.

Thank you Donne

I am right there with you regarding the 'wisdom' bit - my own acceptance ability is indeed a reflection of my advanced years! I was so impatient when I was younger (and I still catch myself being it sometimes)!

Ref your lack of diagnosis for years, I am (unfortunately) not surprised, especially if you have Bi-Polar Two. I just hope that things will improve for you now that you have been properly diagnosed. My very best wishes go with you and I look forward to your excellent comments on my Facebook Page :D 

Post new comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.