Showing posts with label women and mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women and mental health. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 18, 2025

The Role of Creativity in Managing Bipolar Disorder: Women’s Perspectives

The Role of Creativity in Managing Bipolar Disorder: Women’s Perspectives

The written word has always brought me comfort and clarity in a world of discomfort and confusion. I didn’t know at the young age of six when my love of writing began that I was Bipolar but I always knew my mind worked differently than other people. My ability to string words together creating elaborate and imaginative stories that both provoked thought and humour was advanced beyond my years, often winning me various awards and competitions in school. After moving half-way around the world from Guyana to Canada at the age of five I struggled to find my footing in a new space where I felt I didn’t fit in. Story-telling became my solace, my safe-haven, my happy place and my escape. 

I had no idea that what began as a childhood hobby would turn into a means of communicating my healing journey and lived experiences with mental illness, substance use and trauma. My creative journey acts as more than an outlet for my mental health struggles, it’s also become a passionate form of release I used to reach others in need of empathy and understanding on their own journey.

Finding My Creative Inspiration in Others 

Over the years I have met many people like myself, with similar experiences, traumas and mental illnesses that use various creative outlets to express themselves while trying to cope with the harsh realities that come with mental illness. I have been hospitalized with poets, singers, visual artists, self-taught pianists and guitarists. What we all had in common was the longing to find peace in the chaos of our minds through our chosen mediums. 

Creativity is not unique to those with Bipolar disorder or other mental illness; what is unique however is our shared need to use creativity to heal our mind, bodies and souls. Every individual that I have met on my creative journey that uses their own creativity to express their struggles has inspired me to move forward in my journey to wellness, they have encouraged me to continue to use my chosen medium of writing to heal myself and help others.   

The Highs and Lows of Creativity

My ability to express myself through writing also aids me in understanding when I’m experiencing my manic highs and depressive lows. When I’m manic I tend to write more as well as think faster than the words can be put on the page. My manic writing style flows fast and furious but my mind expands into a creative realm I have never been able to reach during periods of wellness or during depressive cycles. When I am experiencing low moods my writing becomes dark reflections on my past experiences and ruminations on my feelings of hopelessness and despair. Wherever my emotions and mindset land in my Bipolar cycle I find that creating a work, any work leads to positive outcomes and better understanding of my mental health. 

Creativity: The Double-edged Sword

Creativity can be over-whelming, acting as a double-edged sword. It's entirely possible to create nothing but insanity on a page regardless of how creative you are. For me writing while in manic-psychosis is an example of this. I have kept the journals I have written in since my first manic episode in 2006. When I examine and reflect on the ramblings of my past all I see is pages and pages of paranoid recordings of a patient trying to find clarity in the chaos of the psychiatric unit. When I am deeply in my illness I look for meaning where there is no meaning, I keep detailed records of what I eat, my sleep patterns, my medication regime. I write letters to the voices in my head, to the people I believed have wronged me and mostly to God. Looking back on these entries is always hard until I inevitably come across a poem or a piece of pros that reminds me that in the midst of madness I’m still me, still creative, still a writer with something worthwhile to say.

Finding Your Creativity 

However you choose to express yourself creatively there are several important benefits to finding an outlet that works for you. Remember, you don’t have to be the next Picasso or have the voice of Whitney Houston. Sometimes finding your creative voice just means stepping out of your comfort zone and having fun. Creativity is about the progress you make on your journey to wellness not being perfect at your chosen craft. 

Tapping into your creativity can assist in emotional regulation, reduce your anxiety and stabilize your mood during the manic highs or depressive lows of Bipolar disorder. Creativity can also promote cognitive focus leading to a calming effect on your mind and body that can help  keep the racing thoughts that often come with Bipolar disorder at bay. Don’t be afraid to take creative risks by trying new hobbies you had previously never considered. Below is a list of ideas for where you can start. Over the years I have tried each on my journey to expand my creativity.

  1. Music Therapy (vocal or instrumental)

  2. Colouring or Drawing

  3. Painting for Anxiety

  4. Sculpting

  5. Dance Therapy

  6. Lyric Writing

  7. Therapeutic Writing 

  8. Jewelry Making

  9. Journaling (prompted, freestyle and gratitude)

  10. Drumming

My experiences with several of these hobbies were self-directed; however I was also given the opportunity to explore these creative outlets in community organizations such as Ontario Shores and Durham Mental Health Services (DMHS) recovery college setting which often offers creative courses as they too recognize expressive arts healing power.    

Final Thought

Creativity is a powerful tool for managing bipolar disorder, offering emotional release, focus, and connection. For women navigating this journey, creative expression can turn struggles into strengths, helping to stabilize moods and rediscover joy.

If you’re living with bipolar disorder, consider exploring creative outlets that speak to you. Whether it’s journaling, painting, or even gardening, your creativity has the potential to be both a sanctuary and a superpower. Start small, stay curious, and embrace the healing process—one brushstroke, word, or note at a time.

Be fearless in discovering where your creativity lies because somewhere inside you is the inspiration that can lead you down the path of better mental health and wellness. Remember, everyday is an opportunity to do something you’ve never done before.


Saturday, December 28, 2024

Coping with Grief: Women with Bipolar Disorder Share Their Stories


There is nothing more final on Earth than death. When we are born there is an infinite amount of possibilities for  what that life will become. We feel overwhelming joy and pride in the life that God has given us and we can’t imagine that all-consuming joy ending. We grow, take our first steps, say our first words, ride bikes, play in the snow, go to school and learn the lessons that will shape our lives, we fall in love, we make more babies, we start and end careers, we travel the world, we get sick, we recover, we get old, we retire and then what? The truth is if you are fortunate enough to experience all the above adventures you have lived an amazing life. But like all great experiences, people who are born into the world, will come to their inevitable end. 

No one ever thinks about death when they are living. It’s only when death becomes imminent do we start to wonder what’s next? What happens after you die? Well, I am not God or any Higher Power, I don’t know if heaven exists but I’d like to believe so, and therefore I can’t answer the questions that plague our minds when we are faced with our mortality or the mortality of our loved ones. I can however tell you what happens to the people that are left behind, based on my lived experience with death and subsequently grief. They say there are five stages of grief: 

  • Denial: a temporary response to a loss that helps you process it. 

  • Anger: a natural response to loss that can be directed to numerous sources, even the individual that has passes

  • Bargaining: a process where you make deals with yourself or others to feel better

  • Depression: a natural response to loss that can feel like it will last forever. This response is often situational and not an indication of mental illness

  • Acceptance: a stage where you learn to live with the loss and acknowledge the reality of it. 

Though I have experienced all five stages of grief due to loss, I also know that grief is a more complex process that often doesn’t fit or neatly follow the order suggested by the above five principles. When we grieve, we cry, we become numb, we go mad, we develop addictions to cope with the loss, we are sad and stuck in a seemingly never ending loop of painful memories and poignant regrets. We are still alive but a part of us dies with our loved one. We don’t laugh as hard, we don’t smile as much and our hearts break and are never the same again. I’ve experienced two deaths in my life that left me forever changed, that rocked my foundation to the core and I will share with you how grief affected my life, my choices, my mental health and how I found peace because the thing about grief that no one tells you is that you never fully recover, you never truly heal all you can hope for is that you find peace, joy and happiness again after your loved one passes because that is the true legacy they leave you.  

My Grandmother Alvira-December 30, 2004

My grandmother Alvira was my favorite person in the world and I was hers. She was mother to nine children and grandmother and great-grandmother to over 50 children produced by her offspring. She was 82-years old when God called her home and the day she died was the day I was born, the day I turned 22-years old. I was celebrating my 22nd birthday with friends in Ottawa, ON when I walked into my apartment to prepare for a New Year’s get together and my mother was in my living room, she had travelled four hours to tell me that Gran-Gan Alvira had died in Guyana the day before, the day I turned 22-years old. The scream that came out of my mouth originated in a soul-deep place full of pain and loss that only God knew existed and then I fainted. (Denial)

That moment, the moment my person died was the catalyst that turned my life in a different direction. At the funeral my family said things like, “She lived a full and blessed life” and “She’s with God in Heaven now” or “She’s not suffering with pain anymore.” The honest truth was I didn’t care, I was mad at them and at her for leaving me (Anger). My grandmother was more a mother to me than my own mother growing up. She took care of me when my mom  had to work long hours at the hospital, she made me laugh until I cried, she let me snuggle in her arms and play with the waddle under her neck, she taught me how to sing jazz music, she danced with me, she taught me how to be a good, kind, generous and gracious woman and when I went away to university we talked on the phone daily where she would emphasize that, “no one loved her the way I did.” She was my best friend, my person, my soulmate and when she died I lost my sense of identity, I lost my fire, my fight, my will to keep living.

After I returned to Ottawa to finish my final year of my degree program I was numb to everything and cared about nothing (Depression). I had already started using substances, specifically marijuana recreationally but the escape from reality it provided was too tempting to pass us so casual use became daily dependence. Although I managed to graduate with an honours degree it didn’t feel deserved and I could not muster up any excitement for my achievements, after all Gran-Gran wouldn’t be there to see me walk the stage. With my new bad habit and a complete lack of desire to move home where memories of her lurked everywhere I decided to stay in Ottawa and work. Truthfully, I only worked to support my habit. A year passed, then two and by May 2006 my life once again would forever change.

In May 2006 I had my first Manic-Psychotic episode and was hospitalized and diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder. What I know now that I didn’t know then was that the death of my grandmother wasn’t just the trigger that propelled me into the world of mental illness, it was the bullet and the gun. I spiralled out of control after my diagnosis, I continued to use, I had manic episode after manic episode and when I wasn’t manic I was deeply depressed. It was my cousin Kim, one of my grandmother’s other treasured granddaughters that pulled me out of the abyss. We went on daily walks by the lakeshore, she helped me find purpose again, I learned to laugh again with her, she became my greatest supporter in my mental health journey, She guided me through my grief, she reminded me all the lessons our grandmother taught us, we would dance and light a candle on my birthday to celebrate my life and Gran-Gran Alvira’s and without realizing it my heart began to heal and Kim became my person. 

My grandmother was not going to live forever (Acceptance). I grew to understand and accept that however, I will always be left to wonder if I didn’t have a substance use disorder, if I had managed my mental health better, If I didn’t isolate myself from the world, If I practiced self-care and gave myself grace, If I had more tools in my toolkit would I have been better equipped to handle the inevitable trigger of death, could I stop mania from consuming my brain, from drastically altering my mood, from wreaking pure havoc like it’s done in the past? If I were better equipped would my journey through madness have a different conclusion? 

Present Day

On November 20, 2024 my dearest cousin Kim, my big sister, my person died of Endometrial Cancer. She fought relentlessly and unapologetically, staying true to her Naturalist values and never allowing anyone, doctors, family or friends to dictate her course of treatment. She was positive until the very end and she truly believed God had a plan for her and every life she touched. The last time I saw her she was in her hospital bed and she was surrounded by love and prayers. She was watchful and quiet and serene with a glow on her face that made her look younger than her 55-years. I was told my Gran-Gran Alvira had that same glow, it was like a glow of peace, a glow of knowing that the time had come to go home to heaven and that is exactly where Kim was going to end up. Kim's kindness, generosity and grace had an effect on everyone who knew her. She was a mother, a sister, a granddaughter, an aunt, a cousin and a great friend to so many. She was my person and whether she knew it or not over the years of our sisterly-bond she prepared me for the inevitable moment she would no longer be able to walk my journey with me. 

I was asked to speak at her funeral nine days after she passed. That week and a half after Kim’s death I experienced a myriad of emotions from sorrow to anger to pain and regret and many tearfilled sleepless nights. Although I knew her death was imminent she had an unwavering belief that she would live, that God would give her her miracle as long as she kept fighting. I believed it too because I was simply unable to imagine a world without my big sister, my person, my best friend in it. So for my final goodbye I decided to recreate the world where we found comfort in each other, solace by the water and where I found healing because of her steadfast faith in me.

 Kim was a determined woman and she was determined to not give-up on me, she was determined to help her lost baby cousin whose potential shone through all the wreckage I often left in my wake. Her determination is the reason I stopped lying in my bed for days, weeks and months at a time when the depression over my deteriorating mental health became unbearable. Kim would gently insist we walk the Ajax lakeshore, taking in the fresh air and feeling the sun kiss our faces reminding me I was alive, all would be well in time, giving me hope and a never-ending feeling of gratitude.

When we finished our restorative walks by the waterfront, Kim would take me home and we would start the process of making vegan pancakes and apple preserves. I would chop the apples into thin slices while Kim would mix the magic that would create the most delicious pancakes I’ve ever tasted. We would listen to 90’s music and dance and sing around her kitchen. I’ve had several homes over the years and Kim always showed up with ingredients in hand ready to christen my kitchen with our signature dish.

When she was diagnosed in March 2024 with stage 4 cancer and made the decision not to participate in Western treatment methods like chemotherapy, radical surgery or radiation I was terrified for her. I knew very little about cancer or the various treatment options but I knew Kim and I knew she was determined to honour her body and the natural journey she had embarked on from childhood. I think it was in those early days that I began to grieve for my cousin. I experienced denial because of her age and how healthy she had always been. I was angry with God and Kim for putting me in a situation where I felt helpless. I simply could not comprehend her circumstances or control the outcome. I prayed every minute trying to bargain with God for her life and better health. When Kim was checked into the hospital for what would be the last time I fell into a deep depression and was unable to see or call her only communicating through short text messages (I feel regret over this low period). Acceptance came when I finally saw her for the last time and we looked at each other like we were memorizing our respective features, Kim smiled eyes wide and knowing, my eyes were filled with tears. I held her close and told her I loved her and that we would both be okay.

Final Thought

Unlike with my grandmother’s passing 20 years prior, I now have the tools, knowledge and understanding of myself  to prepare for grieving the loss of my dear cousin. I take my medication daily, when you read this entry I will be a year-plus sober from substances, I have built a structure, routine and habits that I live by, I practice self-care, I practice daily prayer and meditation, I exercise, I journal to self-reflect, I set boundaries that help me maintain mental wellness, I give myself space and grace to mourn, process and honour the people I’ve lost and I have a treasured level of self-awareness that I continue to develop when triggers like the tragedy of a loved one’s death become a part of my reality. I am still on my journey to wellness and better mental health but I know my cousin Kim, my biggest supporter, my greatest advocate, my big sister, my best friend and my forever person would be proud of the progress I’ve made.  

If you have experienced loss this year or ever, my heart and deepest condolences go out to you and your loved ones. Grief is a complex and winding road that will have you experiencing a gambit of up and down emotions. As I said earlier, you never truly heal from great loss, it's like trying to put a broken vase back together. Even when all the pieces are present, even if the final product you put together turns out to be beauty born of tragedy, the tragedy still exists and it’s imprinted on your heart and your mind. Once the passing of a loved one happens you are forever changed but you do not have to remain forever broken. One day, you find yourself smiling, then laughing and then moving forward into a better place where loss and pain no longer dictate your future. You make a choice to lean into the legacy of peace, love, joy and happiness your loved one has left for you and you find your way back from the darkness of grief to the light of hope.