Bipolar Anger

Photo by Donna Koch on Unsplash

I am at a low simmer as the heat turns up and the lid on the pot begins to rattle, steam and foamy water spilling over the sides, fire hissing below. The worst of these episodes used to be the mixed states, when mania and depression would collide and take aim at whatever good stood in the way of the terror of bipolar disorder. But now there’s this rage, and that aim becomes deadly, destructive, dark, only the flame beneath the kettle casting any light to any hope of recovery.

Fire burns that way. It either torches the good and leaves only waste, or it clears out the underbrush of disease and enables wellness to regrow. A fire can rage with abandon or it can be controlled and tended to. The determining factor is what you do with the anger.

Younger, I listened to John Lydon in PiL chant “anger is an energy” as he called for all to pull down some system he never could quite define. He existed, and excelled, in brand-based capitalism and he laughed at the left. He joined other post-punks in elevating anarchy to an art form, but all it was was an art form, and quite a bad one at that. We all thought anger was cool, and necessary for positive change, but that’s sort of like tearing down the house to paint the bathroom a better color. It’s a rare time when a system has to completely change. Changes within a system are often necessary, yes, but we’re a moderate people living moderate lives. Until we get angry.

I have late-stage bipolar disorder 1, characterized by mixed episodes and rapid cycling, sometimes spinning between mania and depression in the same day. Agitated, stressed, panicked and, every once in a while, full of anger that threatens to explode into rage. While most cases of bipolar disorder look like affective disorders like depression and anxiety, and can be managed as such, the genetics, biochemistry, and expression of mine comes across as akin to schizophrenia. I’ll write about the hallucinations and disassociation later, but first I want to deal with the anger, because it most impacts my family, it keeps me cowering inside, and it can be managed.

I didn’t manage it at all a few summers ago, and I expressed myself in violent ways. Violence is a means of communication when you believe you’re not being heard, but I was irrational. Everyone was listening , but in my rage I couldn’t shut up long enough to notice. I hadn’t been practicing the meditation that helps me cope because of disagreements and disputes with those in the Buddhist community from which my practice was born, and in a typical fit of manic irresponsibility I threw out all that worked and my family suffered.

So where am I now? Quite pissed off. Of course there is the disappointment that this goddamned disease is back. I haven’t been able to work, or sleep, or get out and mix with people. I’m familiar with most of this, but not the anger. I’ve always been comfortable that my wife, friends, and doctor were on my side and, working together, we’d all get through each difficult period. But this is different. It’s big. Very big. Bigger, and much worse, than anything my wife or most friends have ever seen. My doctor has been there, and we’re working closely to knock out the worst of the symptoms and then deal with picking up the pieces later. But the pieces worry me. I don’t want my marriage to be among the pieces, nor my job, but all that is already happening, and this anger picks up the pieces and throws them around like a monster in an old Japanese movie.

In the last two weeks I’ve managed by running away. A radio playing music I can’t stand at work had me about to snap out. So I just left. People at the house were bothering me, for no discernable reason, so I just went up to my room. None of this is skillful, none of this will lead to coping or healing, but it’s what I need to do right now.

Still, the anger builds.

I’ve studied, taught, and, above all else, practiced meditation for decades. My psychiatrist believes that, even more than the medications he has prescribed and the therapy we’ve shared, meditation is what has helped me manage bipolar disorder so well. When I manage it. But even after all these years there’s a meditation concept I don’t quite get. A concept that can most help deal with anger and rage. The concept of equanimity. I look it up and the definition speaks of a calmness of mind. But a calm mind is so foreign to me, especially in episodes like this one.

Anger leads us to struggle. As I began I wrote that the flame of anger, instead of engulfing everything, can also clear out the underbrush and enable what’s good to grow. Underneath it all is some struggle, and rarely is such struggle random. The best way to moderate, and eventually eliminate, bipolar anger is to identify that struggle. It’s under there, and meditation, therapy, or careful investigation can help us pull it out as an ember glowing, ready to flame up again. And use that ember to build a warming fire of beauty and contemplation.

My Buddhist teacher Dave Smith has said “you’re going to have to choose what to struggle with or something to struggle with is going to choose you.” The choice of what to face can be a hard one, but for me, and my wife, family, friends, and job, the anger that has resulted from not choosing, and not doing the work of resolution and healing, has been much, much harder.

So now, flame started, the harder work begins.