Bipolar and using your creativity

Are people with Bipolar more creative?  

I think so?

Published on Oct 28, 2015

Van Gogh, Beethoven and Edgar Allan Poe were luminaries in their respective fields of art, music and poetry. Their passion for their art forms kindled a creative fire of productivity that affects humanity centuries later. Yet, all of them, like many other creative artists, poets and musicians, suffered from depression or bipolar disorder. In this age of advancement in the neurosciences we have been empowered to explore the age old question that this pardox presents: Is "madness" a part and parcel of "creative genius?" In this seminar we will explore the links between mood disorders and profound creativity. We will go below the surface-level historical links and epidemiological associations and explore the neurobiology of mood disorders and that of creativity to come to an empirically-based answer. In doing so, this seminar will examine the junctions between art, medicine, neuroscience and ethics, and attempt to uncover the secrets of what moves us emotionally as humans.

Dr. Mohammad Alsuwaidan directs the psychiatry specialty clinic at Mubarak Al-Kabeer Hospital in Kuwait. He is an assistant professor of psychiatry at both Kuwait University and the University of Toronto. He is the Program Director for the Kuwait Board of Psychiatry Residency Training Program. He previously served as Founding Head of Mood & Anxiety Disorders, Inaugural Director of Education and Interim Chief of Psychiatry at the Kuwait Center for Mental Health.

Dr. Alsuwaidan completed his psychiatry residency, mood & anxiety disorders fellowship and medical education fellowship at the University of Toronto. He also trained in mood disorders at the Stanford University bipolar clinic and the Tufts Medical Center mood disorders clinic. He completed a Masters of Public Health (MPH) at Johns Hopkins University. He is a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada, a Diplomate of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology and is certified in public health (CPH) by the National Board of Public Health Examiners.

For more information please visit www.MohammadAlsuwaidan.com

Here is an interesting site of talented bipolar paintings 

http://www.bipolarartists.com/index.html  

How the death of my mother caused my bipolar mania to explode part B

How the death of my mother caused my bipolar mania to explode part B.

A strange thing about mania is that I enjoy it at the time.  You take risks, start projects, you think you have supernatural powers, at least I thought so.  The death of my mother triggered all of this.  Mania to me is a relief to the months of depression and the feeling of sadness, and the thoughts of suicide.

So, I will continue with my story.  After leaving Gerry at the casino I went home.  I was still hearing the voices of my departed mother.  In a way it was comforting I felt she was with me.  I also had everyone around me worried sick.  My energy became so extreme I had no time to listen to anyone, I had all the answers to every thing.

After all, this was just one of many of the strange manic episodes that I have had.  I have traveled from my home in Michigan with no plans and very little money.  I ended up in Nebraska one time thinking I was in California.  Ending up at a farm in the middle of no where. I really thought this farm belonged to me.  Long story short, the police were called and I ended up in a straight jacket and was taken to the hospital.  Strange thing is,  I felt glad to be in a straight jacket it felt comforting.

 Back to the Death of my mother.  I began to barricade myself in the basement where I lived.  I felt my mother was down there and I wanted to be with her.  I could talk with her and she could talk with me.  She was a decorator and we decided to decorate the basement.  We painted the walls and I made a chandelier out of a wire tomato hanger.

I went back and forth to the Greek Town Casino with my mom of coarse.  Losing money from my fathers credit card.  I dressed different, I looked different, I wore jewelry and I was becoming a completely different person.  My mothers house was up for sale.  My brother who lives in California was the executor and my sister were in charged of the estate.  I became a big pain in the ass, taking things and moving things in the house.  Mom was always with me.  I would place towels in the house in the sign of the cross, move things and prove to them that mom was with me.

My anger turned toward my brother who was out of state.  In my mind he was stealing and I would not let him.  He was planning to get married at the time and I made threats to ruin his wedding.  I felt he had my computer bugged and had helicopters watching my every move.  I emailed threats to him a nd told his bride to be how awful he was.  I went to a Lawyer and decided I would sue him.  The Lawyer knew I was not right and even said are you on medication.

My brother did not know what to do, so he called my counselor and tried to get me put in the hospital.  When I went to my therapist she said I had to do a drug test, I passed and there was nothing they could do.

That night I went back to the casino spending more off my fathers credit card.  I figured I could win and pay him back easily.  Lost again, down about $2500.  I had already lost all of my own money about $2000.  I will just win it back, no problem.  After I lost, I went in to a gas station in Detroit to get a protein bar.  All of the sudden 3 young black dudes surrounded me and asked me if I was a police officer.  Are you an officer they said?  I said maybe.  They ran around me nervously I guess they were deciding as to robbing me or not.  One was outside guarding the door the other two were inside.  The attendant rolled the bullet proof glass shut.  Again they asked are you an officer, I said maybe!  This is how it is going to end, shot and killed in a gas station, a common thing in Detroit.

My hands were shaking.  I threw my wallet, car keys, and gold chain on the counter and put my hands in my jacket.  They ran around, knocked a few items off the shelf, and left.  After they left, the attendant opened the window and yelled at me. You should have told them you were a cop!!!  I told him to F**** OFF.

After I left the station I became paranoid and figured they were following me, so I drove back to downtown Detroit trying for hours to find the police department.  I frantically found the police station.  I sat in the parking lot until a cop came over.  I told him what happened and that I was bipolar and could not find my way home.  My brain just could not figure out where I lived.  He did nothing to really help me.  Hey, in Detroit this is no big deal and you get no help.  I sat behind the steel gates at the police department until I was calm enough to find my way home.

My mania went on for another couple of months.  I woke up one day sleeping on an air mattress and instantly snapped out of mania.  I now realized the havoc and the pain that I caused.  I felt so ashamed!

 I would have to write a book to explain the ups and down of my manic episodes.  I will give you a list of other things that I went through.

1.  Maxed my 36 credit cards
2. Threw money out the car window
3. Became an Angel
4. Trashed cars
5. Blew money at Casinos
4. Rented a bus and 3 cars which I did not drive
5. Went bankrupt 3 times
6. Ended up in hospitals in different states
7. Bought pounds of weed (not even a pot smoker)

I have felt tremendous shame from all of this and I am pretty stable right now.  Even though I am 53 now,  I have never had a relationship to speak of or  held down a normal job.  Some how I keep going and I do not know why.  I am afraid to get close to someone, I keep a wall up.  Walls keep you from getting hurt.  They also make you a prisoner.  I do not  have any jealousy as far as material things.  I give most things away.  It is just all junk,  I just want peace.  I just want to live happy in my mind.  If I can live happy in my mind, my location and my stuff does not matter.

 My walls are built well.  I have built them to last.  They are made of 2" steel.  I have built many.   I am the only one who might be able to burn through, but I am not a welder.  If they were made of wood I could just light a match and watch them burn. I am not sure how many walls are behind the first one, there could be hundreds.

For now I live inside my walls.  Not sure if I will ever completely get out.  Really not sure if  I want to.  I do get some visitors, my dog Ben can get in and out.  He knows how, he is my best friend.  He walks right through the steel.  We play and talk and he leaves when he wants to.  One day he may show me how he does it.  I think animals are smarter than we think.  I love animals and we can learn a lot from them.  They know how to love and are a reflection of how we they are treated.  They give us way more than we can ever give them.  Just get a puppy, you will see what true love is.        

http://www.free-range-humans.com/out-of-the-box/fpassions/
   

   

How the death of my mother caused my bipolar mania to explode part A

    Like so many other families, we have lost to many people to Cancer.  My sister at 36, my niece at 29. My Mother did her very best to take care of both of them. Now she was also fighting the battle against uterine cancer.  They found a five pound tumor.  People were shocked, she always looked so beautiful.  She was a tap dancer.  Everything she touched had to be perfection. She loved her friends and she had dozens of them.  The Surgeon gave us very little hope.  Three to six months.  She never asked and did not want to know how much time she had left.  She had places to be and many things to do.  I think of her as high voltage, always moving with a great zest for life.  Time was passing quickly and she was trying to cram everything in. Traveling, golfing, and even tap dancing which she loved to do with her friends in Arizona. She went through Chemo and her hair fell out.  She was so sick.  It was hard to watch my Mother, my best friend suffer so much.

  All of this is hard to handle even for the most stable of  minds.  I became her rock and took care of her every day for weeks.  As my mother got closer to the end, the stress became more and more and my mind started to race and reality began to slip away.

  The day my mother died.  It was March 4 2014, as I look at the clock it was ten minutes to ten I realized that I had to give her dilaudid in liquid form.  It was like feeding a baby bird.  She was in the front room the only place the hospice bed would fit.  She did not want to be in that room because my step father died in the same room three years before and was pronounced dead at 10:05 pm.  I was also there with my mother when he died.

  I was lucky to have my sister Karen who has been a nurse for many years.  She had left that morning to go take a shower.  I was getting ready to give my my mother her meds when I heard a gasp.  I went quickly to check on my mother.  That was her last breath.  I stood at the foot of the bed and then sat with my mother who was still warm.  I heard a knock at the door.  It was the hospice nurse.  She pronounced her death at 10:05 am.  The same time as my step father.  She was am he was pm.  I had been like a robot the whole time my mother was sick.  I did not have any feelings of sadness like one would expect.  I called my sister and she said she was on her way.

I was no longer able to keep my mania in tack and the Craziness began!

I began to hear my moms voice and bells ringing.  When she was sick and could not talk I gave her a bell and now it was ringing and haunting me.  The same night my mother died in my sleep I flashed pictures.  I am a sleep walker and I sometimes would even drive a car in this sleep state.  I no now it was caused by Ambien, which I no longer take.  When I looked at the pictures on the camera there were images of my mother in her bed just as she laid there when she died.  I showed the pictures to my father and he said that is your mother and he was confused.  I really think that some Bipolar people are able to tap in to the supernatural when they are in Mania.

Bipolar and my trip to the Casino with Mom. 

My mother and me always went to play the slots.  The same morning I took the pictures I heard my mother voice say lets go to the casino.  I said lets go mom and off I went with my departed mother.  Mom was still with me and I was happy to go with her.  I had $100 dollars and thought I can not lose with Mom here with me.  Well I lost 80 bucks real quick at the Greek town Casino.  I could not hear my Moms voice anymore so I went to get a coffee. 

At the coffee machine there was a lot of commotion going on.  A  homeless lady was getting asked to leave the casino I guess she wore out her welcome.  I stepped in and said she is with me and they said she can stay as long as she is playing.  She asked me for money for the bus and I gave her my last twenty.  She said thank you and headed for the exit.  Instead of leaving I seen her go right for the slot machine.  I kind of got mad and she said something that blew me away.  She said she was a street minister and she was going to pay other peoples bills if she won.  

This is not her but close to what she looked like.

I told her I would like to join her and she said her name was Gerry and there would be no hanky panky being that she was a minister.  I said I would never make a pass even though she was so beautiful.  She began to talk to people who were not there.  I asked who she was talking to and she said your mother.  I was stunned at first and then it made perfect sense.  I followed her as she looked for the perfect machine.  She said that the one, the Panda machine.  She put the twenty in the penny Panda machine.  I told her to just play 35 cents at a time and she told me that she only plays high voltage.  I said what is high voltage and she said it is the max.  I figured well were not going to be here for long.

Jack Pot!!!!  Free spins!!!

Normally this machine will hit for 8 free spins, accept the free spins hit for more free spins for a grand total of 108 free spins.  The free spins went for about twenty minutes when the spinning stopped and the light went on and signaled a big win.  Over $1,200, the casino guy countered her out twelve new hundred dollar bills.  Gerry offered me some of the money and I told her to keep it.  She then asked me for a ride to her boyfriend and reluctantly I said ok.  I drove her to where she said in the worst part of Detroit at a CVS store in the hood.  She said stop, there is my boyfriend and hopped out of the car he was also homeless.  I began to back up the car to leave.  She said you can not leave until we pray and I minister to you.  I told her that I am not a believer and she grabbed my hand and began to pray over me.  I thought to myself hurry up and pray so I can get out of here.  As she prayed I looked to my left and across the street was a church with a giant cross.  The prayer seemed to go on forever and I told Gerry I just can not believe like you do.  She said that is ok I will make sure you get in.  I said ok and she let me go.

I will pick up from here in my next blog, give me a comment if you want me to continue.