One of the most awesome characteristics (symptoms?) of being biploar is that we often think that while psychiatric medications are valid, necessary and appropriate for other people with other conditions, they will do us no good. Our issues are not biological, but rather flaws that if we just work hard enough on we can resolve without the medications. Worst case scenario we can go on them for a few months here and there while we get our diet/therapy/exercise regime/meditation/anger management/spending habits/self mutilation/borderline behavior/etc etc etc under control.
Then, when we are all better, we can go off those evil medications.
When the reality is, for some of us, the medications may be permanent. I have been on and off medications for the past 15 years and, fortunately, the combination I am on now seems to be really working for me. The only side effect seems to be some mild weight gain, which I am working hard on to manage and have honestly let go -- I mean who cares if I am 15-20 lbs heavier than where I would like to be for race weight? It's not like I am going to podium anyway. That isn't my goal. My goal is to just finish the race smiling and enjoy the training along the way. I will follow the training plan and stick to my nutrition plan and, at least at this point, that seems to be enough.
The other day I forgot to take my meds. I couldn't honestly remember if I had done it and I didn't want to accidentally take it again if I had already taken it. But around 6 pm I was walking home from the bus and could feel it -- the headache was coming. I could feel pain behind my right eye. I felt dizzy. But most of all I started to have this general feel of detachment from myself that I had forgotten all about. It was this general feeling that everything was not okay and the only way to deal with it was to go outside myself and not be there.
Wow. I hadn't even noticed that horrible feeling had disappeared. It used to be with me all the time. But not anymore. Now I am able to be fully present in the good and the bad, which is one of the reasons I think I have been able to both stick with my training plan and set reasonable limits for myself now while I am recovering from injury.
For example, I was lucky enough to get a slot in the annual Cherry Blossom 10 miler - an impossible race to get into and I got a slot this year on my first try (it's a lottery). A few days ago I decided that there was no way my calf would take me 10 miles, so I downgraded my entry to the 5K. But 5K was not enough. When I picked up my race packet on Friday, they explained to me that I still had my 10 mile bib because they had already printed it. So, of course, the whole time I was tempted to do the 10 miles... even though it would risk further injury.
Today I purposefully left my house too late to get to the race for the 7:30 10 mile start (the 5k was at 8:30). I got the metro and the train was right there -- shoot.. I would still make it in time. So I got off the subway two stops too soon and started to jog, making sure I would not be able to start the 10 miler even if I wanted to. But, of course, when I got there my wave was just starting (the last wave of us slowbies). So I popped in. Why not. I felt good. Really good. Wasn't tired, weather was great, was pacing nice and slowly. Then around mile 5 my calf started to feel sore. But instead of exiting my body and pushing myself through the pain, which is what I normally wouldn't have done, I just bailed. I took off my number and just jogged back and went home.
So this is what moderation feels like. This is what compromise is. This is what contentment is. And everything is okay.
I don't give my medication all the credit. I think one of the reasons this treatment has been so successful is because I have been taking care of all the other parts - exercise, meditation, diet, personal boundaries, behavior modification, etc. etc. But just as I have accepted that regular exercise and training is part of who I am now, so are these meds. And everything is okay.
Labels: drugs, injury, moderation, running
