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Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) – Additional Information

feeling-blueAdditional information to what is written on the page : “Menopause And Depression

Major depressive disorder (MDD)

(also known as recurrent depressive disorder, clinical depression, major depression, unipolar depression, or unipolar disorder) is a mental disorder characterized by an all-encompassing low mood accompanied by low self-esteem, and by loss of interest or pleasure in normally enjoyable activities.

This cluster of symptoms (syndrome) was named, described and classified as one of the mood disorders in the 1980 edition of the American Psychiatric Association’s diagnostic manual.
The term “depression” is ambiguous. It is often used to denote this syndrome but may refer to other mood disorders or to lower mood states lacking clinical significance.

Major depressive disorder is a disabling condition that adversely affects a person’s family, work or school life, sleeping and eating habits, and general health.
In the United States, around 3.4% of people with major depression commit suicide, and up to 60% of people who commit suicide had depression or another mood disorder.

Depression is a state of low mood and aversion to activity that can affect a person’s thoughts, behavior, feelings and physical well-being.
Depressed people may feel sad, anxious, empty, hopeless, worried, helpless, worthless, guilty, irritable, or restless.

They may lose interest in activities that once were pleasurable; experience loss of appetite or overeating, have problems concentrating, remembering details, or making decisions; and may contemplate or attempt suicide. Insomnia, excessive sleeping, fatigue, loss of energy, or aches, pains or digestive problems that are resistant to treatment may be present.

Teen Bipolar Disorder and Their Unique Challenges

Teen bipolar disorder is diagnosed more frequently.

bipolar-imagesBecause of the unique challenges, Teen bipolar disorder is diagnosed more frequently each year – as it should be. Manic depression is always a serious disorder, but when younger people are in the throes of the disease, it poses some additional challenges. Let us look at some of the unique problems of handling teen bipolar disorder.

First, we should probably take a moment to discuss what bipolar disorders are. In the simplest of terms, one is bipolar when they cycle between deep emotional lows and inappropriate emotional highs. Those who are bipolar experience periods of depression and, on the other end of the emotional spectrum, episodes of outright mania. Behavior on both ends is often potentially dangerous, and this illness can be exceptionally challenging for anyone.

Teen bipolar disorder refers to cases of the disorder diagnosed in young people.

Manic depression is difficult for any sufferer, but teens often have a more difficult time than others do. There are a few reasons.

First, the teen years are a period during which self-confidence is already often lacking. It is a trying period of self-discovery for emotionally healthy kids. There are those who try to take the gauntlet of issues, and learning experiences that are essential to the phase of life while simultaneously suffering from a debilitating mental health issue. This is not surprisingly, but can be quite traumatized by the experience.

This trauma is multiplied, in some sense, by the fact that younger people are yet to develop solid coping skills. Bipolar disorder can adversely affect even the most world-weary adult, but when it occurs with a younger person, they may be totally blindsided by its challenges.

Additionally, the nature of the age makes teen bipolar disorder more difficult for families and loved ones to spot the illness. Hormonal changes and social pressures often make teens “moody.” It can be hard for many parents to distinguish between manic depressive tendencies and traditional teen behavior. Catching the disease early in its development is always preferable, but when manic depression strikes a teenager, that can be extremely difficult.

Third, teen bipolar disorder takes place at a horrible time in terms of social development. Kids in this age group are involved with school, activities and socialization that can help them to learn how to function successfully as adults. That learning process can be short-circuited when a child is simultaneously dealing with manic depression.

Fortunately, teen bipolar disorder is treatable. Pharmaceutical and cognitive therapies can help bring the condition under control, allowing the victim to experience a tremendously improved quality of life. Successful treatment of the problem does require professional medical intervention. If one is, or knows, a teen who is exhibiting signs of a potential bipolar disorder, medical intervention is essential.

Although no mental health condition is “easy,” circumstances can create additional layers of challenge. Such is the case with teen bipolar disorder.

Bipolar teenager

 

 

 

The Bipolar Teen: What You Can Do to Help Your Child and Your Family

Bipolar Disorder and Social Media

Use Bipolar Chat as a Means of Support?

Bipolar disorder chatting online is currently the preferred option for the growing support for people suffering from bipolar disorder (sometimes known as manic depression).help

While bipolar chat option will not replace an appropriate treatment option recommended, everyone can provide some benefits for other bipolar people.

As the Internet has grown, the opportunity to interact with similar interests and conditions has increased.

Although we often assume that the social possibilities in terms of the fans to discuss their passions or professional exchange of ideas, it will also result in the creation of discussion groups and chat rooms for those suffering from certain diseases. The bipolar chat is an example of this phenomenon.

Despite a certain level of social development, mental illness still carries a stigma. Also, just based on symptoms, mental health problems can make people feel marginalized, and can stimulate ineffective separation. In discussing these issues with others in a supportive environment, some of the negative consequences can be minimized.

When there is someone to talk with, bipolar chat can allow victims of depression to feel less alone with their problem. It can help them realize that their struggle with the burden of this disease is not unique to them. This can reduce the feeling of being “out” and can give positive reinforcement as one continue to deal with the condition.

In some situations, bipolar chat may be one of the only real ways in how people can appraise significantly, and interact with other people who suffers from the disease. Those in rural areas or small towns cannot always have a “face to face” is an option, and then online bipolar chat can be extremely useful.

Others may feel uncomfortable with the “face” the situation and still be able to get some therapeutic value of bipolar disorder chat.

Although the online chat option can help, should not replace professional advice or therapy sessions prescribed. The support offered by a group chat can be brilliant but will allow coping skills, and information offered by the program receives professional treatment.

Nevertheless; we should not eliminate the need for bipolar chat medical use of drugs.

We must recognize that bipolar disorder is a hugely serious medical problem that requires professional medical assistance. Self-help in the form of a bipolar chat or other possibilities should be done only with the approval of a physician. In some cases, doctors may recommend that a person not involved in the effort and patients should pay attention to medical advice.

Advances in technology led to the creation of a valuable resource for those suffering from mental illness. An opportunity to share and learn from others with a similar analysis can be reassuring and helpful, which is the main reason for the growth of online opportunities such as bipolar disorder chat.

-Kurt Pedersen

Curse of the Ferrari Brain: the Other Side of Bipolar Disorder

Manic Episode: Another Side of Bipolar Disorder.

Welcome back, my friends!

My apologies for the extended absence. I’ve been very busy with other projects, which I’ll have to return to soon. Also, I wanted to make sure this article was perfect, because this one’s a little tricky.

So far, most of my articles have focused on depression. As someone with type II bipolar disorder, that’s the side I know best. Also, it’s the side that’s easiest for a person who doesn’t have bipolar disorder to understand. Everyone has been bummed at some point. Wanna understand bipolar depression? Take your depression, magnify by about a jillion, and there ya go. Pretty easy to understand, right? The other side of the coin isn’t as straightforward. A good metaphor, I hope, will make it easier to understand.

Let’s say that the average human brain is like a Volvo.The Volvo gets great mileage and is one of the safest, most dependable cars on the road. You wanna get to work on time, day after day and with very little fuss and worry? A Volvo is the car for you.Volvo Classic

The bipolar brain is more like a Ferrari.

Ferrari

“Farrah”

The Ferrari is fast and flashy. Its sleek, predatory looks practically demand that you drive it at dangerous speeds. You want to make it to work in forty seconds flat? Then the Ferrari is the car for you. Unfortunately, it guzzles gas like your Aunt Janie guzzles gin and tends to spend more time in the shop than on the road. The insurance premiums are astronomical and you are almost guaranteed to wrap it around a tree someday.

Now then… bipolar depression is like the times when the Ferrari is in the shop. It’s up on the lift, and you’re going nowhere. You can’t even show it off by rolling it into your driveway. Not only that, but you gotta walk to work while all the Volvo drivers practically blaze by at 35 mph. In your mind’s eye, they laugh at you as it starts to rain. Your anxiety tells you they are ALL aiming for puddles near you, and the occasional sociopath WILL soak you for his or her amusement.

But then the shop owner calls. Your chariot awaits! You go down to the shop, pay the exorbitant bill, and fire up that 16-cylinder Italian ego trip.

“I’ve missed you, Farrah,” you say, not caring about the look the shop owner gives you. If HE had a Ferrari, he’d name her Farrah, too. Your foot barely taps her gas pedal and she purrs delightedly. She’s missed you, too.

“Good girl,” you say, then ease Farrah’s shifter into first, the action so smooth that instinct alone tells you that she’s out of neutral. You pull out of the shop’s parking lot and into traffic. At first, she’s just glad to be off of that horrible rack and back on the road where she belongs, but every red light, every school zone is an irritant, and sand only makes pearls in oysters. Sand in an engine is death, but Farrah complies and stays below the speed limit… for now.

As you pull into the parking lot at work, all eyes turn to you and your beautiful machine. You pull into your space and reach for the key to kill her ignition, but you stop short.

“It’s been so long. Just once,” she begs. “Pretty please?”

You know this is how it starts, but you’re still in control. Just once won’t hurt anything, right? It’s not like you’re doing anything dangerous. Besides, what’s the point in owning a car like Farrah if you can’t show her off?

With Farrah’s gears in neutral, your foot presses hard on her accelerator and her engine screams ecstatically. Those who weren’t looking before certainly are now. Many are impressed. Many others are jealous. And Farrah, at long last, feels warm and tingly.

“Mmm… baby,” she purrs. “You’re the only one who knows how to touch me right. Again. Please.”

“Sorry, babe,” you say, a little defeated. “I gotta go to work now.”

Farrah pouts as you shut off the engine, sputtering just a little to let you know she’s put out. You promise her a full tank of premium and a stretch of deserted highway tonight followed by a loving sponge bath. You know that will make her happy, but she’s still sulking.

When five o’clock rolls around, you dash into the parking lot to find Farrah waiting. It’s a beautiful day, so you decide a little sun would be good for you both. You drop her top, fire up her engine and gun the accelerator—just a little—as you exit the parking lot. No harm done, and at last you’re out on the open road where both of you are more happy… for all of about twenty seconds.

Gridlock. No one’s going anywhere fast. The traffic jam drives you nuts, but you try to smile regardless. You’ve gotten so many “nice car, man” comments from the Volvos that your ego has slipped into overdrive. Eventually, though, it gets old. You’re sick of hearing how nice your car is. You wanna FEEL how nice she is, and in this traffic, how can you? You can’t even get out of first gear! You’ve got to MOVE!

Speed isn’t Farrah’s only good quality. She maneuvers like… well… like a goddamn Ferrari! Each time you see an opening in traffic, you seize it. At first, you make sure there’s plenty of space, but soon ANY amount of space is enough as long as it moves you forward. Other drivers stop saying “nice car” and start saying “watch it, asshole!”

“Fuck them,” Farrah says. “They’re just jealous, baby.”

Finally, you come upon a stretch of open highway, just begging to be devoured. You stomp Farrah’s accelerator and instantly know that what she said is true. Who wouldn’t be jealous of this speed? This freedom?

“At last!” she screams as you tear away from the nightmare behind you. The wind whips your hair as the speedometer climbs. This is what she’s DESIGNED to do, you tell yourself. It’s just you and Farrah and all is well in the world. You drive off into the sunset, victorious, just like in the movies.

But real life isn’t the movies, and sunset only means the end of the day, not the end of the film. You pull into your garage and park Farrah for the night. You have to work in the morning, but you’re too wired to sleep. You try watching TV. You try a hot shower. Nothing works. Sleep just won’t come, not with Farrah calling to you from the garage.

“Sleep is for those Volvo people,” she says, spitting out the word Volvo as if it had the arsenic taste of bitter almonds. “You’re better than them, baby. All you need is me. Come on. Let’s go for a drive.”

But you know better. You’ve been down this road before. With the help of a few Benadryl, you ignore her voice and drift off, but your sleep isn’t like real sleep. Your body lays motionless but your mind spins like a screeching tire. Dreams and reality melt together for a few fitful hours of sleep and traffic nightmares.

You’re awake long before sunrise, but you force yourself to stay in bed until the alarm goes off, then you’re up in a flash. You sing in the shower. You skip breakfast. You rush to the garage.

“Good morning, sexy,” she says. “Ready to play?”

“Are you?” you ask, smirking as you sink into a kid leather bucket seat that fits you like a glove. You deftly slip your key in her ignition and give it a twist. As you pull on your driving gloves, the temperature gauge begins to rise. “Like that, do you?”

“Sailor baby, you get me hotter than Georgia asphalt,” she purrs.

You bet your sweet ass I do, you think as the garage door rises to release you from your prison. Your house isn’t your home. Here with her. This is home. This is where you belong.

Now, there are two different ways this scenario can end…

END #1

The garage door is barely up before you’re skidding out of the garage and into… another fucking traffic jam! No! No no no no NO NO NO!!! You honk madly. Farrah’s engine growls at any Volvos who get too close. The admiration in the Volvo drivers’ eyes is gone. Today, they look upon you with fear, but you don’t give a damn. They’re just in your way, anyway, right? One Volvo tries to pull in front of you. You stomp the accelerator and he weaves out of your way just in time.

“My lane, asshole,” you shout. “Mine!

Your lane or not, the traffic light turns red and you’re stuck. Time stands still. You scream and rev your engine, both you and Farrah quickly reaching redline. The temperature warning light comes on, but you ignore it. It just wants to slow you down, too. You smell oil smoke, but don’t care.

“Go baby,” Farrah shrieks. “Go! Go! GOOOO!”

KABLAM!

Something snaps. Thick gray smoke boils from the engine compartment. Farrah’s engine chokes and sputters as the light turns green. She’s got just enough strength to ease to the side of the road.

“This is all your fault,” she says, dying. You weep at what your anger has done.

The tow truck guy clucks his tongue as he winches Farrah’s front end into the sky. “Damn shame,” he says. “Such a nice car.”

In your mind, you finish his sentence. If only you knew how to treat it.

Welcome back to depression.

Or, it could end like this…

END #2

The garage door is barely up before you’re skidding out of the garage and onto the open road. Your floor it and Farrah jumps over the speed limit like an antelope. There’s no traffic, no cops, nothing but miles of open road. You cut each corner closer, but not because you’re out of control. You do it because you’re fucking amazing! Every move you make is the right one. The world is yours and everything is perfect…

…until you run out of gas in the middle of nowhere during a thunderstorm and have to walk to the nearest payphone (you forgot your cell in your hurry to hit the road) only to find you don’t have any change, so you have to walk all the way back to your house. Once at your house, you reach into your pocket and find that you’ve lost your keys somewhere along the way.

Welcome back to depression.

George Carlin, one of the funniest men to ever live, once said that the cliché phrase “more than happy” sounded like a medical condition.” Well, he was right. “More than happy” is called euphoria, and euphoria is sometimes a symptom of a manic episode. Sometimes, bipolar disorder feels WONDERFUL. At the beginning of the upswing, you have hypomania, and hypomania can be very, very good. It’s your chance to really shine.

Sometimes, when you’re hypomanic, you are the life of the party—charming, witty, friendly and filled with energy. Your mind becomes razor sharp, your reflexes like those of a kung fu master. You make friends easily, accomplish incredible amounts of work, and have flashes of brilliance that astound and amaze everyone around you. I LOVE it when hypomania works that way!

Sometimes, however, it doesn’t. Sometimes when you’re hypomanic, you are the total buzzkill—cranky, bitter, sullen… and yet still filled with energy. Your mind is sharp, but it’s your tongue that’s the razor. You’re nerves are so jittery you twitch. Fine silk feels like sandpaper against your skin. You still have that keen focus, but all you focus on is the neighbor’s goddamn stereo and if you had one ounce less of willpower, you’d crash right over and shove the thing straight up his ass. But that wouldn’t fix the problem, because dammit, you’re pissed and you’re gonna stay that way. I HATE it when hypomania works that way.

Now, if you’re type II bipolar like me, hypomania is the ceiling. You hit it, stay there for anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks (depending on how rapidly you cycle) and then spiral back down into depression. If you’re type I bipolar, then hypomania is just the beginning.

Hypomania basically means “little mania,” so for a full-tilt manic episode, take my description of hypomania and magnify it exponentially: the occasional sleepless night becomes days on end without sleep; the occasional ego trip gives way to full-blown narcissism and delusions of grandeur; euphoria becomes psychosis; irritability becomes hostility and anxiety becomes outright paranoia. Some even experience hallucinations.

No matter how high the ladder goes, unless you drop dead from exhaustion (which does happen occasionally) or wrap your Ferrari around a tree (yes, those on the upswing really do tend to speed) then you’re going to find yourself right back where you started. For some, that’s a relatively normal mood. For others, it’s welcome back to depression. Hope you enjoyed the ride.

And on that note, I hope you, my readers, have enjoyed the ride. I’ll be taking a break from this blog now, but I’m sure I’ll be back I’ve got so many other stories, poems, screenplays and articles to write. I’ve got sketches to draw and music to compose. I’ve got a life without bipolar disorder… or at least a life without thinking about it all the time.

The one thing I want you to remember most of all is that NO ONE IS A DISEASE. They are a person with a disease. Their disease is not their life, at least not unless they allow it to be. Don’t do that, folks. It sucks. Be people. People are OK unless they won’t turn their goddamn stereos down.

Keep fighting, folks!

-Bruce Anderson

 

The Twelve Days of Seasonal Depression (and How to Survive Them)

Happy New Year, fellow freaks!Bipolar?

Congratulations on surviving the holidays. This time of year is rough on lots of folks. It’s so bad that psychologists actually had to come up with the term Seasonal Affective Disorder to give a label to the depression many people feel during this time of year. Statistically speaking, more people commit suicide during the holidays than any other time of year.

In case you can’t think of a good reason to be bummed, here’s a list. In fact, since we’re all so freakin’ festive, let’s sing it!

The Twelve Days of Holiday Depression (opus 42)

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

  • Twelve pounds of gained weight
  • Eleven in-laws bitching
  • Ten hours of sunlight (if I’m lucky)
  • Nine days snowed-in
  • Eight (eight, I forget what eight was for)
  • Seven months of payments on my…
  • Six maxed-out credit cards, and (deep breath)
  • FIVE EXISTENTIAL CRISES wherein I wonder if I’m celebrating for no reason other than to pad some corporation’s bottom line because there just might not be a God after all and this one life might be all I get and I’m wasting it just like my mother always said I would after I dropped out of law school to become an artist and now I have to look her in the eye and tell her “sorry, I couldn’t afford to get you anything this year, but I hand-painted you a card and no, it’s not supposed to be a fish, it’s supposed to be a Christmas tree so I guess you were right all along, so I think I’ll have cup after cup of eggnog until the gift you find under the tree tomorrow will be me, face down in a pool of my own vomit, but what the hell, it’s not like it matters anyway because Santa was a lie you told to get me to behave which makes me wonder if God might be one toooooo! (Pant… pant… pant…)
  • Four calling birds (birds piss me off, OK?)
  • Three French hens (enough with the damn birds, already!)
  • Two turtle doves (See? My TRUE LOVE gave me BIRDS! It’s like she doesn’t even KNOW me!)
  • And a partridge in a pear tree (sigh)

To make matters worse, you could be singing about all these things your true love got you and be single… on Christmas… again. So, now that we’ve had our little sing-along, here’s a bullet list for people who don’t have time for such silliness.

88% Nonsense-Free Checklist of Causes of Seasonal Depression (v2.0)

  • Weight gain leads to lowered self-esteem
  • Debt due to holiday overspending
  • Cabin Fever due to cold weather conditions
  • Stress (due to shopping, family, travel, debt, etc.)
  • Little exposure to sunlight
  • Religious doubt
  • Loneliness
  • Alienation, feeling like an outsider
  • Birds

If even “normal” people tend to get the blues in the winter, just think of how it can affect someone with bipolar disorder! With all of these forces conspiring to make angst the reason for the season, what can you do to avoid the deluge of yuletide despair?

  1. Set a spending limit. Does Uncle Frank in Hoboken, New Jersey really need that 88” plasma TV? Didn’t he get you a bird last year? Send him a more reasonably-priced gift. Don’t have an anxiety attack over whether or not you spent the same amount on someone as they spent on you. That’s not the point! If he or she is the kind of jerk who is going to judge you based on how much you spent on their gift, well… that’s one less person to buy for next year, now isn’t it?
  2. Take time off from shopping to talk with friends and family. Instead of buying someone a gift that will most likely “accidentally” get thrown out with the wrapping paper, take them out to dinner or a movie, something you BOTH can enjoy. Chances are, they need a break from shopping, family, etc. too.
  3. Slow down! Admit that you are human and cannot possibly attend each of the seventeen Christmas events in four different countries you’ve been invited to. Go ONE place Christmas Eve, and ONE place Christmas Day.
  4. Buy full-spectrum light bulbs. Fluorescent bulbs may be more energy-efficient, but they can completely suck your will to live. Full-spectrum bulbs are special bulbs used in light therapy treatments. They produce light that is nearly identical to sunlight. Natural light will work WONDERS for your mood. Seriously. I can’t stress this enough. FULL-SPECTRUM LIGHT BULBS. I keep one in my bedside lamp year-round.
  5. If you live someplace with terrible winters, get out of the house BEFORE the storm hits and again as soon as the roads are clear. Facebook will be there when you get back. I promise.
  6. If you ARE snowed in with your family, play in the snow. It’s exercise, which is good for your mood anyway. Consider having a snowball fight. It’ll relieve some of that pent-up frustration. If you live alone, launch a surprise snowball attack on an unsuspecting neighbor. The ensuing chase will provide a few extra moments of fun, and hey, technically, the police count as having company. Make sure to have plenty of cocoa on hand.
  7. Buy a cat. Petting a cat can lower your stress level. Your partridge, on the other hand, will not be pleased.

These are only a few ideas I’ve got on how to beat the wintertime blues. Can you think of any? If so, let us know in the comments section below. If they’re serious suggestions, great! We can use the help. If they’re silly, great! We can ALWAYS use a laugh. When it comes to depression, laughter might just be the best medicine.

Until next time, keep warm, and keep fighting!

-Bruce Anderson

Click the link to read more from Bruce: How I Became the Freak in the Corner