Radical self-care is a thing I was thinking about this morning when I came up with the most radical self-care option for those with bipolar disorder (or any serious illness). It’s something some of us have tried but many of us don’t do because we’re often told we’re not supposed to. But radical self-care is about moving self-care up on your priority list and doing some of the things that society tells us not to do. So here’s the most radical self-care option those with bipolar disorder should consider.
Self-Care and Bipolar
Self-care, of course, is all the rage. I’ve written about it and I’m pretty sure so has every other mental health/wellness writer too. You might think of it as being nice to yourself.
The American Heritage® Stedman’s Medical Dictionary defines “self-care” as:
The care of oneself without medical, professional, or other assistance or oversight.
Think: taking a hot bath, reading a book, Netflix-bingeing and so on.
Self-care is really important when you have an illness like bipolar disorder because bipolar disorder wears you down every day of your life and you need things to build you back up again: self-care.
Radical Self-Care
Radical self-care for bipolar disorder is slightly different, though. While I believe self-care can be worked into anyone’s life, say, 10 minutes of reading a great book after the kids have gone to sleep, radical self-care actually puts itself first, above other things in your life. So instead of waiting for the kids to go to sleep
Radical self-care is not just about caring for yourself but actually about moving your own health and wellbeing up on your list and sometimes ahead of other peoples’. Instead of tending to your garden last, radical self-care would suggest you should water your own garden first.
And if self-care relates to bipolar wellness (or just wellness in general) then I believe the concept of radical self-care can be helpful to those with bipolar disorder too.
Bipolar Disorder and Radical Self-Care
What most people don’t realize is that many of us with bipolar disorder only survive thanks to radical self-care. It is only because we take care of ourselves first that we don’t just wither up and die. This is because we have so few resources, if we don’t use them on ourselves first, we simply aren’t left with any for ourselves at all.
So as I’ve written about over and over again, limits and boundaries are paramount to surviving with bipolar disorder. Writing about these things in this way is essentially writing about radical self-care.
For example, I don’t go to movies. It’s a boundary of mine. Some might argue a stupid boundary — okay, no problem, but it’s still a boundary of mine. I find movies, pretty much en masse, for one reason or another, triggering, so I just don’t go to the movies. When a friend asks, I just politely decline. (My friends know not to ask, at this point, actually.) I put my wellbeing — not being triggered — ahead of their pleasure — attending the movie with me. And I make choices like these all the time. Some might call this selfish. I would argue it’s radical self-care and critical if you have bipolar disorder or another serious illness. I can barely adequately function within my boundaries and limits. Outside of them? Forget about it.
The Most Radical Version of Self-Care for Those with Bipolar Disorder
Upon consideration, I realized there is a type of radical self-care that makes sense for many of those with bipolar disorder: cutting people out of your life.
Of course, I’m not suggesting cutting people out willy-nilly, that would do no one any good. What I’m talking about is looking at the relationships in your life and cutting out the one(s) that don’t support you in the way you need to be supported. I’m talking about cutting people out of your life if they make your bipolar worse.
I hear time after time after time how people have those in their lives who don’t believe in bipolar disorder or who don’t believe their loved one has bipolar disorder or who don’t believe in medication/psychiatry or who don’t respect what’s necessary in order to maintain a life with bipolar disorder. I hear all the time about loved ones essentially, intentionally or not, sabotaging their loved one’s ability to live with bipolar disorder. These people are not lifting you up. These people are making it harder for you to deal with bipolar disorder — which is hard enough already, thank you — and dragging you down.
So I’m saying if this is you, you might want to consider radical self-care. If your bipolar gets worse because of certain people, consider the radical self-care move of limiting their access to you or cutting them out completely. Because while taking a bath is nice and reading a good book might be calming, nothing will be as beneficial as getting rid of someone that actively makes you worse.
Image by Flickr user Allison Crow.
Great article, Natasha! You are so correct about cutting people out that make the bipolar more difficult to manage. I’ve spent the last year really practicing radical self care. My bipolar hasn’t been this well-managed in the entire 22yrs I’ve been dealing with it seriously. I still have bad days, bad episodes…most of us likely always will. They are FAR fewer and FAR less lengthy than ever before. I’m religious with my medications and dr visits. I’m now stricter with what I do with my time and who I keep in my life. I encourage anyone to practice self care radically. I’m able to do more things that enrich my life now that my episodes are fewer. It’s been a literal lifesaver. Thank you for publishing this article.
I am struggling to learn the lesson of radical self care havng been raised in a dysfunctional family and indoctrinated to believe that I do not have any needs, let alone any rights.
After many hellish years of dealing with a toxic family and my own mental health I broke down completely and tried to take my own life. The reaction of my family was a major wake up call that I had to keep away from them, bt because of a parent’s serious illness I stayed in low contact.
The final estrangement occured after a 12 month period during which I moved house three times, I was made redundant from a job that was my vocation (after four years of bullying by a senior manager that I alternately challenged and then broke down because of); a parent died; the love of my life dumped me (same weekend my parent died) and threw me out of our new home (I trusted him and didn’t insist on my name on the deeds); I lost many, many thousands because I had spent so much on the new house and had lent my partner money; my partner also told me to kill myself when I broke down again.
So the end of the contact with my family occurred when my remaining parent and sibling both made it clear to me and in public that they had no compassion, understanding or even basic human sympathy for what I had gone through.
Instead their agenda was to manipulate and bully me into doing what they wanted me to and spend what remaining money, energy and life I had supporting the two of them. At the same time they wanted to keep their habit of criticising, demeaning and gossiping about me to anyone who listened – whether they knew me or not.
So, yes, radical self care. I walked away. I sometimes feel guilty, but why should I? I wouldn’t feel guilty for not picking up a rattle snake would I?
Anyway, I think this is a great post Natasha, so thank you.
Thanks for another great blog, Natasha.
I employ radical self-care pretty much all day, every day, as it’s the only way to keep myself from becoming completely lost in my brain’s non-stop negative obsessing. Other than the small amount of time that it takes me to do the essential tasks in my life such as caring for my pug, feeding myself, doing at least SOME house cleaning, getting myself to appointments, and tricking myself into the shower often enough to not become completely disgusting, my life is an empty landscape, just ready and waiting to be overwhelmed by nasty, painful, obsessive and brooding thoughts. Having lost, over a period of about 14 years, my husband and soul mate of 15 years, my mental health, my entire life’s savings and my home of 16 years (thank you disastrous, hypomanic-induced second marriage to an extremely controlling, verbally abusive, spendaholic con-man), then, the final straw, my career, which was a true calling, and that I loved with all my heart (I was a geology professor). The career was definitely the last straw, and I have been truly and completely broken for the past 10 years.
So, if I’m not in one of my very mild, very subdued, very pleasant and very short-lived (1-3 days max) hypomanic episodes (which are the absolute ONLY time, if I’m on my own, that I ever feel even remotely happy, hopeful, or am able to work on even a simple project), or engaging in direct interaction with a person or people that I care about (face-to-face, over the phone, or even just texting back and forth), I am mentally drowning in a miasma of grief, bitterness, and regret, or agonizing over the utter soul crushing emptiness and hopelessness of my current life. (I know, it sounds so melodramatic, but it’s my reality.)
I scrape by financially, living on disability. I’ve been far too sick to work for the past 10 years, and my nearly half-million dollar old age fund – as well as my own home – went with hubby #2.
I am down to 5 people in my life that I have truly close relationships with – my 2 kids, my 2 closest, long-time girlfriends, and one of my 5 brothers (he’s the baby of the family, younger than me by 2 years). Every one of these people have busy, busy lives, and can’t spend huge volumes of time dealing with me, so I’m so lonely most of the time that I want to scream and pull at my hair.
So, I spend probably around 80% of my waking hours surviving by keeping my sick and beat-up bipolar II brain completely engaged and immersed either in books (mostly novels, a broad range of genres, as well as non-fiction science and history books and articles. As long as it’s interesting enough to me to keep me engrossed, it works for me) or in tv series or movies. While I spend probably 80-90% of this “danger zone” time reading, I don’t know what I would do without Netflix, Prime Streaming, and current tv series like Outlander (which I have, of course, read all 8 books in the series as well). And I always wear sound blocking headphones while watching, so that I’m even more immersed.
*Note: I constantly have my pug girl, Lily, cuddled up with me, and am constantly petting her, and occasionally talking to her, any time I’m reading or watching :)
It’s a pretty drastic way to have to live, and it takes the concept of radical self-care to ridiculous lengths, but if I had a significant other, or if my kids were still young, I would have them to interact with, and I wouldn’t need to be spending that time losing myself in something else.
Believe me, I would much, much, MUCH rather be spending all of this free time interacting with people that I love.
Georgia
Georgia, I was very moved by your reply here on Natasha’s blog. I don’t have a lot of energy right now, but I wanted to connect with you. So MUCH you’ve said reminds me of my own situations. It was quite astonishing, actually. It was about 2006, when I was 49, that I was first diagnosed as possibly Bipolar. Treated with Lithium, which didn’t hold things back from happening to me, but couldn’t, or didn’t want to take the other mood stabilizers (previous ballet dancer, impossible for me to deal with weight gain)….. then, I don’t remember circumstance, but I believe I was deemed Not bipolar……and then back on for a little while, then off. And 3 years ago now, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s. I, and my psychiatrist, for so long now, have been trying to to hit – what he thought was stubborn ADHD – with every med in the book including Tricyclic antidepressants to nothing but “psychotic” avail. Just TONIGHT, he and I both came to conclusion (he said he’s always believed it) that I am Mixed States Bipolar. and I think it’s Bipolar II. More on this if I had energy. Would love to hear from you.
Melody – thanks so much for your response. I know about low energy, and this won’t be a long reply for that same reason. Being misdiagnosed, and therefore mis-medicated, is a complete nightmare. It sounds as though you’ve been dealing with a (or some) extremely inept doctors. You have my full sympathy for that as well. I even share your extreme aversion to weight gain, and was horrified 3 years ago when, almost immediately after a change in my mood stabilizer, I gained 70 pounds in 3 months time. Argh!!! I had been a size 6 my entire adult life, there had been zero change in my diet or exercise routine, but I was suddenly a size 16. I was 57 years old, and suddenly felt like a whale. I got off of the medication, but the weight didn’t go. I tried everything that my depleted energy – and my now massive size – allowed. Three years later, the weight is still here, and I often feel hopeless that I’m ever going to feel physically healthy again.
Jeez! It really sucks to be going along with a healthy life, thinking that this is how it will always be, then BAM! You’re in your late 30s (for me), or even your 40s, and your life as you’ve known it is destroyed. I try to stay positive, but seldom succeed and, even after 22 years with bipolar II, anxiety disorder, and ADHD, I’m still bitter.
I know that’s not very uplifting to hear, but even as emotionally healthy and “together” as I was up until age 38, this illness has ground me down to practically nothing.
Very good advice for anyone, especially those with emotional problems (including bipolar.) But terribly difficult to avoid family members who are harmful – they often include one’s partner or parents. Until recently, society taught us that mental illness could generally be solved by “pulling up one’s bootstraps.” And people schooled in that philosophy don’t usually change with the times; sometimes you just have to wait until they join their ancestors. It’s also a continuing burden to be blamed by everyone as the cause of an estrangement. I know my sister suffered all of her adult life with such a label, despite a clear personality disorder that no one would acknowledge; I was not without blame myself. I feel badly about it now, but it’s too late for her to care anymore. A difficult subject.