Late last Friday, I reached out to my psychiatrist via text, pouring out my thoughts in a lengthy and somewhat contradictory message. I apologized for bothering him and explained that I couldn’t call at the moment due to my responsibilities with my children. However, I desperately needed to reschedule my appointment as I couldn’t bear to wait until Tuesday. The afternoon had been an arduous task, and the crux of my message boiled down to three simple words: “I’m not okay.”
The truth is, I struggle with anxiety disorder and bipolar disorder, each manifesting in its distinct way. Anxiety grips me with panic, causing physical symptoms like sweating and trembling, while bipolar disorder takes me on rollercoaster rides of manic highs and crippling lows.
Bipolar disorder, formerly known as manic-depressive illness or manic depression, is characterized by significant mood shifts, fluctuations in energy levels, activity changes, difficulties with concentration, and challenges in carrying out daily tasks, according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH). The NIMH estimates that 4.4 percent of adults in the U.S. will experience bipolar disorder at some point in their lives.
Today, I find myself overwhelmed with sadness and a sense of despair. The world seems engulfed in chaos, and my family’s financial stability is crumbling. My husband has taken a substantial pay cut, and my freelance writing work has diminished. The uncertainty of falling ill and the constant worry for the well-being of my loved ones and the world weigh heavily on my mind.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I lost control. It feels like just a few months ago, I was laughing, dancing, singing karaoke, and enjoying tequila shots. Yet, now I find myself struggling to even get out of bed. Regardless of when or why it began, one thing is certain: Living with depression amidst the uncertainties of a global pandemic is exceptionally challenging. In fact, I would go as far as saying it feels nearly impossible at times.
Social Isolation and Stress
It’s important to recognize that social isolation has a profound impact on exacerbating my symptoms. Dr. Gail Saltz, an Associate Professor of Psychiatry at New York-Presbyterian Hospital Weill-Cornell School of Medicine and host of the Personology podcast, explains that social isolation contributes to increased stress levels, feelings of loneliness, and a lack of social support, all of which can significantly worsen mental health issues and pre-existing conditions.
The COVID-19 pandemic has further intensified my sense of social isolation. Without the usual routines or external obligations, my days blend together without clear demarcations. There is no alarm to signal the start of my day, and I often find myself wearing the same red Christmas pajamas for consecutive days. With no structured schedule, sleep patterns become irregular, and I may doze off at unconventional hours, leading to a distorted sense of time. Basic self-care practices, such as showering, brushing my teeth, and eating regular meals, have fallen by the wayside. The passage of time becomes indistinct as the days blend into one another. My daily routine revolves around watching talk shows, late-night shows, and the biweekly trash collection, providing me with some semblance of external events.
However, even amid the responsibilities of caring for my children, the strain of my mental health affects my ability to fulfill those duties consistently. My daughter’s homework is frequently submitted late, and I struggle to prioritize my own well-being. The overwhelming thoughts in my mind resemble a jumble of alphabet soup, making it difficult to focus or find clarity. Though I long to release my pent-up emotions through crying, I find myself unable to do so. The sensation of burning eyes and a flushed face accompanies a deep numbness, where fear and pain persist alongside a sense of emotional detachment.
The Loss of Support Structures
One of the most terrifying aspects of experiencing depression during a pandemic is the removal of my safety net. The closure of my therapist’s and psychiatrist’s offices, along with the absence of my usual distractions, adds to the distress. Work opportunities are diminishing, the gym is unavailable, and the absence of an overly demanding schedule leaves me alone with my thoughts and emotions.
In the grand scheme of the COVID-19 pandemic and its aftermath, these challenges may seem trivial. Perhaps they are. Probably. I feel ashamed of my depression, my seemingly meager needs and desires. I can almost anticipate some rolling their eyes in response. Moreover, I carry a sense of burden towards my family, friends, and doctor. After all, what right do I have to complain when my loved ones are safe and well? I acknowledge the blessings in my life. However, I struggle to discern if my feelings of shame are valid or merely a symptom of my illness. Guilt and depression often intertwine, exacerbating one another.
Although I may not have a definitive plan to “get better,” I have developed a strategy to propel myself forward, to combat the pain. This plan revolves around implementing structure and routine in my daily life. I set alarms for essential activities like eating and showering. My calendar now includes dedicated time for self-care and personal well-being, rather than focusing solely on work commitments. I make a conscious effort to breathe at regular intervals, grounding myself in the present moment. Involving my six-year-old daughter, I commit to activities like bike rides or walks in the morning, as she holds me accountable and is relentless in her determination. From reading and cooking to baking and texting friends, I populate my to-do list with meaningful tasks and engagements.
Furthermore, my psychiatrist remains an integral part of my support system, as we maintain a weekly phone session. Additionally, I am currently taking three medications aimed at managing my mood, anxiety, and depression, as well as providing stability.
While I may not have all the answers or a definitive solution, I am determined to navigate each day with a sense of structure, self-care, and professional guidance. These steps form the foundation of my ongoing efforts to manage my mental health during these challenging times.
Taking One Step at a Time
The effectiveness of my efforts varies. When prompted by my Apple Watch’s vibrations, I make a conscious effort to sit up and get moving. I do manage to get off the couch or out of bed, albeit reluctantly. However, it takes me hours to finish a meal, and there are times when I opt to wash my hands instead of taking a shower, as the thought of showering feels overwhelming. There are moments when I find myself emotionally numbed, completing necessary tasks out of obligation rather than genuine motivation. Nonetheless, I am making an effort.
To remind myself of my resilience and determination, I wear two bracelets—one inscribed with the phrase “nevertheless she persisted” and the other with the saying “prove them wrong.” They serve as constant reminders that I am trying, and that alone is significant. I make it a point to document even the smallest victories in the “notes” section of my iPhone.
If you find yourself struggling today, please know that it’s okay to experience anxiety and feelings of sadness. Recognize that you are not alone, as I am right there with you. I may not be okay at the moment, but I am committed to moving forward because I recognize my worth, and we all have inherent worth. Mental illness is an ongoing battle, and in times of crisis, we must make a choice: to stand, to fight, and to find the strength to get out of bed.