Author Archives: Michael Ligtenberg

At the Crossroads

I have been living with Bipolar Disorder for about the last 7 years. Well that’s not really true…I have been living with Bipolar Disorder all my life but I only learned of my condition 7 years ago. Since then I have been surrounded by a number of professionals: psychiatrists, a family doctor, psychiatric nurses, a CB therapist, and of course the pharmacists. All of these individuals have played an important role on my road to stability. I would say that I am much more stable now than I have ever been in my life. I don’t drink, I don’t take illegal drugs, and I don’t smoke cigarettes so I feel stable…but bored. The problem is that I am dealing with some very powerful urges to go back to self-medication, the street, to return to the world of addiction. These feelings even invade my dreams. So now I find myself at the crossroads.

The first prescription drug I took made me fly so high and yeah it was great and I loved it. I have never had so much fun as I did that summer. On the downside though, I also completely freaked out on a very good friend a couple of times. I am lucky she understood and forgave me. So they took my off the lamotrigine. And to be honest I miss it.

Now when I go to the pharmacist I pick up 13 bottles of pills, and every day I swallow 23 pills. So I have no more highs and the lows are manageable. Instead of flying high I have gained a lot of weight, about 80 pounds in 2 years. My self-image and self-esteem have gone awry. I used to run 2 kms a day and now I do nothing. I also had plantar fasciitis for about a year which was crippling so even walking any distance was extremely painful. I still managed to do 40 sit ups most every day, but somehow that got lost to. My healthy routines were shattered.

Now I watch a lot of TV but it is just a way of passing time. I don’t feel any interest or motivation to do the things that I used to love doing: writing, reading, photography, woodworking, walking. Even my sex drive has been adversely affected; I just have no libido. In fact, I just don’t feel much at all. The only thing that gets me excited for a few moments is online poker and online sports betting. Fortunately I am not gambling high stakes…I do understand how to win…or at least not to lose too much. But how long will that last?

This isn’t the life I thought I would have. Lots of people live off my salary…a very respectable one but one that I only see of about 30%. My present spouse cannot work (bipolar disorder and fibromyalgia), and I have 4 children who have all pursued post-secondary studies (and I’m so proud of them all) so I still have a very high child support payments to make every month and I pay the taxes on that. It’s depressing because I can’t put away much money for my retirement. I am 52 and I want to retire when I am 60…I just don’t know if I will be able to afford that. I have spent 23 years of my life in small rooms filled with 25 teenagers and with only one door out (the escape hatch). Such is the life of a high school teacher. Maybe I can get a job as a greeter at Walmart when I retire.

So what is this crossroad? Well, this is the way I see it:

If I turn left, it leads me back to self-medication. The urge to drop all of the prescription drugs and go back to self-medication is very strong…wrong but strong. The consequences would be huge…it would destroy my relationship with the woman I have been living with for more than 4 years. She would be immensely hurt if I decided to turn left. It would destroy all the years I have put in to regain my children’s trust. And to be honest, I don’t know if I could survive that nether world either. I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go to jail either. Fortunately the closest big city from my home is about 1600 km (1000 miles) away.

If I stay the course and just go straight ahead, I will just have to accept that I am obese and bored, the status quo. I hardly take showers anymore because that means I will see myself in the mirror and see that old fat ugly guy staring back at me. I will continue to provide for all the others and continue to countdown the years to go until I can retire, ennui being the flavour of the day.

If I take a right turn, well, it is the most daunting of them all. It requires motivation. I will need to improve my diet, exercise more, pick up my camera and go for walks even if it is painful, make a workshop in the basement, read, and take Viagra if need be.

As I read over this blog with my therapist I noticed something, something important. Subconsciously I think I decided to make the best choice, a right turn…right because perhaps it would be the right decision. But I am just so tired of fighting with myself.

Do I have the strength? Should I just grin and bear it? Or do I go looking for desolation row…

School: The Bipolar Way

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In this blog, I would like to share my experience in schools over the last 44 years. It traces how bipolarity affected my progress in school and my social life.

I always hated school, from the very first day…and indeed, I do remember that day well. I was outside the kindergarten section of the neighbourhood public school. My name was called and I immediately started to panic. I didn’t want to join that line of strangers. And who was that lady at the front??? I clutched my mother’s hand but she withdrew it and then used it, with a wag, to point my way down that slippery school path. When I came home after my morning at school, my mother asked me how it went. I responded, “It’s fine. I’ve seen it but I don’t want to see it again.” I found it such a nightmare trying to interact with the others. One thing I remember very well was that nap time was pure fear and so I always refused to sleep.

By grade two I was a chronic skipper. Every day at lunch time I would complain of having headaches to my mother on the phone. She would be at work and had little time so she would sometimes accept that I stay home. But sometimes she wouldn’t and would push me to go, threatening reprimand. Nevertheless I still wouldn’t go…but she didn’t know. I changed schools three times in the first seven years…always trying to integrate with the kids but in the end always feeling worthless and apart. In grade 4 my teacher said, “Michael, sometimes you can be such an idiot”. Yeah that was a real boost to my self-esteem at the age of 9. My grade 6 report card, and I still have it, said that I need to progress from drawing stickmen. Okay, so art I thought was not from me. Now I have explored writing, cabinet making and photography and all with some success.

Next was junior high. I will talk about it but not with a great deal of pleasure. I don’t know if anyone would like to remember going from age 13 to 16. Fumbling through puberty, talking way too much, always afraid to approach members of the opposite sex who I had quickly discovered were, well, exciting. It was then that I was baptised with a very endearing nickname. Often my last name is mispronounced. I pronounce it the Dutch way, Lig-ten-berg. The teachers and other kids would always say Light-enberg but I wouldn’t protest. At that time, my mother would say that I was “husky” (and no, I’m not a dog, actually I’m quite cute now I do believe). So I was dubbed with the nickname Fat-enberg. That dashed all my hopes of ever connecting with girls.

Now it was high school. New rules, new choices, new people, and a new chance I thought. I do have some very pleasant memories of high school. I got my driver’s license with car time from my trusting parents (little did they know). I had beer, pot, girlfriends, and a two-year long relationship and yes, I lost my virginity!!! However the heartbreak from the broken relationship was wrenching. I was still a chronic skipper so my grades sucked resulting in many failures. It’s ironic that I never passed French but now I can speak it fluently. In the final year I once again changed schools hoping to reshape my image. However trying to fit in at the end is never easy. The only clique I managed to fit in with was the “potheads”, but I can’t deny that it was blast. I felt more comfortable with these friends than ever before. I was still a chronic skipper and I didn’t even attend my graduation.

Then a year off in which I worked for six months and then travelled through Europe exploring my roots. Three months travel turned into six, and I had the most amazing experiences, even working in Copenhagen for three months with a premiere avant-garde anti-racist Danish photographer/activist named Jacob Holdt. (You can find him on Facebook.) He remembers me to this day. Evidently he felt that my personality had made an impact on him. Yes I was hyper-manic most of the trip.

Now it was time to brave the new world of university, for the first time. Within two months of beginning, my father died of a heart attack, on my university’s running track no less. Needless to say, the depression was long, the whole three years I attended in fact. I had no hopes; I had no goals; I felt no reason to be. My bachelor of arts was in literature and I completed all the requirements. However I still haven’t completed the six credits I need in any course to complete it. Again my grades sucked (“C+” average). There were lots of bars on campus open all day. You could often find me there. I never could be bothered to finish my degree. There was a silver lining though…I was able to avoid another graduation ceremony. Another two-year relationship collapsed shortly after my stint at university, and so again more heartbreak. So I ran off to Europe again and smoked my way through Holland for six months.

The next time I attended university was after a six-year hiatus. I was married and my first child had just been born. When she was one month old, I lost my job. I knew I needed something more solid than a measly incomplete B.A. in literature. So I returned, and after acing my first session in philosophy I qualified for the teaching programme. Yes you read that right. I wanted to become a teacher, but I had a clear reason to succeed and a definite goal why. And I flew through that four-year programme in two and half years finishing with Honours and a 3.72 GPA. We also had a second child 18 months after the first. If I remember correctly, I believe I was hyper-manic for a very long period of time. And no, I didn’t go to my graduation.

I am a teacher now and have been for the last 20 years. Now I never skip. It was a rough ride at the beginning. We had our third and fourth child during my first five years and we bought a house which needed a lot of interior renovation. So for the next five years I was teaching, renovating, washing diapers, cooking, cleaning, shopping, and sleeping about 5 hours a night. A continuation of the hyper-manic state I’d say. Can you believe that my relationship fell apart when I finally crashed back to earth like an engineless plane?

I love school now. I don’t regret becoming a teacher despite its associated stress levels. I have been able to develop many qualities like leadership, compassion, and respect for everyone. I love being in the classroom and breathing in the discovery teenagers go through. And when the learning bud blossoms in an adolescent’s head, it’s a high in itself. Working here in a Native Community has helped me to develop those qualities even further. The last three years, however, have been difficult resulting in three sick leaves. This came after my mother’s death in 2011. After a suicide attempt my symptoms then became so pronounced that my bipolarity was finally diagnosed. Over the next 18 months my health team, including my new spouse, and I have found a good pharmaceutical cocktail for me. I am now trying to find a way to protect my mental health and continue teaching. And I am determined to do just that. I really want to appreciate and enjoy my last years in school.

Michael Ligtenberg: Photography

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Columnist Michael Ligtenberg is also a photographer, and has generously shared a new gallery with us at Bipolar Village. -Daniel

It was only about 15 months ago that I picked up the camera again. The reason…I wanted to provide my own pictures for the articles I have written for Bipolar Village. My fiancée, an artist, saw my work and encouraged me to do more. So I embarked on a project: post a new photo every day on Facebook for a year. I succeeded…I posted 365 photos in 365 days. I also gained a following that helped my self-esteem and kept me motivated to go on even during the rough times. Here are a dozen photos from that project.

: November 2, 2012

: November 4, 2012

: November 10, 2012

: December 27, 2012

: January 8, 2013

: May 5, 2013

: June 8, 2013

: June 21, 2013

: July 27, 2013

: July 28, 2013

: August 15, 2013

: October 27, 2013

Michael Ligtenberg: A Sunset Saviour

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This is a story that I both wanted and needed to share with the readers. The event slapped me in the face as it dawned on me how extremely profound it was to me spiritually. It also took me from the bottom to the top. I hope you enjoy it.

This special tale all starts on a bad day. I went from a three-week manic episode only to be struck down by a speeding freight train, and no, I’m not Superman. A four-day anxiety attack sent me to a deep, dark place again…but this time it was really deep and really dark. The only thing I can compare it to is a night dive in the ocean with no flashlight…that’s dark. I have never seen such utter blackness anywhere else.

I called my therapist knowing that I needed help immediately; this dark place was a dangerous place, full of sharks ready to feed. He gave me an emergency appointment…he is exceptional. In a two-hour session, I was able to dump my thoughts and feelings about the last weeks, full of excessive and intense emotional events, both incredibly good, and others incredibly destructive. I was, and still am, manifesting severe psycho-motor agitation. I was confused and slow my mind a mud pit. Despite the two hours, I didn’t really feel any better when I left. Yeah, I was asked that classic question, “Are you thinking about suicide at all Michael?” I assured him I wasn’t, and I was being completely honest. I knew somehow that despite the pit I was in, there was a ladder out there somewhere, and I only needed to find it, as I must have done so many times in the past. Because he knows I feel good when I go out to the shores of James Bay, he suggested that I should do that. At first I wasn’t sure about the idea, but then I promised.

He also said I needed to listen to music again, something I do most days for hours and hours on end, but impossible to do when I am down. He suggested that I shouldn’t bring my I-Pod shuffle though. That’s because I told him that not only do I have some sort of telepathic connection with people, but also that my shuffle and I have a very special connection too. I know, a little crazy, but only a little crazy. So I brought it anyway, not willing to do everything he suggested. Some people call that stubborn, but I like to call it a step-by-step process. Once again the order of the new 200 song playlist had an undeniable connection to my emotions and my recent experiences. Music is a gauge of my mood…the more I am connected to every note and every instrument, the higher I am and vice versa.

Hours later I forced myself to go, simply because I had made a promise and I don’t ever want to break one again. After much struggle I finally got my butt out of the house. However I still managed to forget my driver’s license.

When I arrived at the bay, the wind was warm and the tide low. Fifty metres away nearer to the shoreline, there was an old Cree man, a “chiyaau” as we say. He was sitting on a rock carving a piece of pine. I was polite. I didn’t want to disturb him, but I also knew that I should go and greet him as Cree custom would dictate. Arriving ten metres away I said hello, “Wachiiya,” and introduced myself in Cree. I then told him that I have been a teacher in the community for eight years. He was pleased with my greeting and the words I spoke. He had a big smile, a good sign. So I told him how the bay helps me…tapping my head. He laughed and said that’s why he goes there to carve. I told him I see animals in the sky. I know, a little crazy, but only a little crazy. He laughed again, nodding his head, “Yes, I do too.” So I said good bye and took my walk to the edge of the bay looking west. For me, the sky is full of animals, clouds morphing from dog to hippo to pig. Tonight, after two days of absolutely nothing, the animals came back to me more strongly than ever.

But it doesn’t end there. I saw a sunset like I have never seen before. It started late, only fifteen minutes before its last embers crossed the line where water meets sky. The west was a storm front brewing leaving only a small band of clear sky just over the horizon. So popping out of the dark sky, there was a glorious almost blood red sun. I could also see that there were small bands of clouds way off in that little patch of sky creating small dark rings crossing the sun, but always in movement, rising from the bottom to the top.

All of a sudden the brewing storm blazed with distinct lightning strikes. Some were directly between the sunset and my perch on a big flat rock, bright orange in colour. It generated deep feelings and it literally became all surreal. Just after the sun set in indescribable royalty, two birds flew over my head. I watched them for a few moments, admiring their courage, flying on some journey over the expanse of water. I looked down for less than a split second. When I looked back up to the exact spot I was gazing at before, they were gone. I searched and scrutinized the sky, but still they were gone.

With all this natural mystery floating through my spiritual self I decided to walk to a rocky point a short distance off. In a place I usually only find rocks that speak to me, which this evening I chose not to look for, I found a lone piece of driftwood that I immediately grabbed without thought. As I walked back to my car, I examined it curiously, trying to figure out why it spoke to me so strongly. And then I saw it. It looked like a boomerang…but a kind of a screwed up boomerang. I smiled and laughed and thought…ahahhhhh! It’s my bipolar boomerang.

I ran back over the rocky shore without regard because I knew I had to write this blog now! It was pressing and urgent. So I raced home and I wrote this as soon I stepped into the door, not even bothering to take jacket or shoes off. In ninety minutes I wrote it and revised it twice. Yeah I know, a little crazy, but only a little.

My muse is back on my shoulder radiantly smiling at me…and the guy with his little sinister smile on my other shoulder…well he’s disappeared again, just like the birds did in a flash of beauty. He’s gone again I thought gratefully. Then I thought, well at least for the moment anyway. I just hope that I am not going back to another hyper-manic episode…but I feel like I am soaring again, and wow, I like it!

Michael Ligtenberg: My Bipolar Medicine Wheel

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In this blog I would like to talk about the Native symbol known as the Medicine Wheel, the concept of the Seven Directions and how I use them to make daily adjustments.

Do you see things? I do. Seemingly incoherent and random shapes become images. I can sit outside for an hour and watch the clouds drift by seeing dozens of animals…but only animals. When I look for rocks on the Arctic Ocean shoreline, I keep the ones that have faces…and again, I only find faces. Driftwood can also be fascinating, the curving forms molding themselves into strange beasts, some pleasant and some scary. Nobody else sees them, until I point them out. Continue reading →

Michael Ligtenberg: The Bipolar Boomerang

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After the very positive feedback I have received here at Bipolar Today, I have decided to continue to share my experiences dealing with my recent diagnosis late in life. This is obviously a personal experience, and how I am coping with Bipolar Disorder as an individual. Today I am writing about a bad moment I have recently been through and am still going through as I write.

Have you ever thrown a rock into the water, or a stick in a park just for the sheer pleasure of throwing something and watching it as it sails through the air and then as it comes back down to earth, as the properties of gravity must dictate? Continue reading →

Michael Ligtenberg: Bipolar at 47, Part Two – After

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This is the second part of a blog relating my struggle with Bipolar Disorder. Part 1 discussed its affects on my life before diagnosis. Part 2 follows my path of acceptance and the proactive steps I am taking to understand who I am and what I can do to temper the tempest.

Part 2: After

Last autumn saw me fall into my deepest depression ever. Continue reading →

Michael Ligtenberg: Bipolar At 47, Part One – Before

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After reading many blogs here at Bipolar Today, I have been inspired to relate my own experience with my mental illness. It is a 2-part blog centering on how this disease has affected my life before diagnosis and how I have dealt with it since diagnosis. Just as I found so many anecdotes here both helpful and reassuring, I hope that you, the reader, will be able to see a reflection of your own experience with Bipolar Disorder. I have also discovered that writing has proven to be a very therapeutic activity for me. Continue reading →