Vijay Nallawala, has been living with bipolar disorder for 42 years and runs a peer support group. Here he takes us through his journey of mental and physical recovery that could be an inspiration to others affected by similar conditions.
When a person affected by bipolar disorder asks his psychiatrist about the prognosis of this mental health disorder, the typical answer one gets is: 'Although bipolar disorder has no cure, it can be managed with medication and therapy.'
Coming to terms with my context
Mine has been a tumultuous journey of living with bipolar for 42 years. Due to late prognosis, only the last 15 years were managed by treatment.
Recovery to me is contextual: seen in context of functionality, stability and quality of life that the person affected enjoys. Some from my tribe are obsessed about reaching a stage where medication would become redundant for them. So far as I am concerned, recovery is not about being able to live without medication. Medically speaking, I am in remission and am on low dosage of maintenance medication.
I think coming to terms with what recovery means in a lifelong illness is very important: one could either see it as a 'lesser me' or it could be seen as 'a much calmer, happier me.' I chose the latter perspective and it freed me.
My recovery
I can say I have recovered because I have transcended my illness. If bipolar disorder is about uncertainty, about extreme fluctuations of mood, I say I have experienced no major mood swing in a decade. In fact, the future holds no dread for me. I am not obsessed about my diagnosis anymore and my life is much, much larger than bipolar. If mental illness robbed me of my peace of mind earlier, I am a calmer person now. Many of my peers complain that they are living dull lives sans emotions. My empathy index has actually gone up and I can easily relate to the challenges others face. Surely each one of us desires to be happy and fulfilled. I am grateful that I am a happy and fulfilled man and am able to live life fully.
A common fallout of mental illness is the inability to earn an income. So when a breadwinner is the one affected, it can cause great strain on the family's finances. Admittedly, bipolar disorder messed up my career when a full-blown mania had hit me. Since then, I have recovered sufficiently to be financially independent. This also could be considered as one of the measures of recovery: instead of being a burden on the family, to be its main provider.
Read: What Recovery From Depression Feels Like
Stay fit physically and mentally
Recovery to me also means good physical health. Many of us affected by bipolar disorder (and other mental illnesses) allow physical health to suffer for various reasons. It could be weight gain due to side effects of medicines, co-morbid health conditions, neglect towards one's wellbeing, etc. I have maintained my ideal weight for over a decade, workout daily at a gym and also practice pranayam and meditation. It might seem a tall claim but I am healthier and fitter than I was at age 25.
Recovery to me, especially when pertaining to mental illness, is about sound cognitive functioning. Is my memory and focus serving me well? Can I rely on my judgment, which can be affected by the vagaries of this illness? An emphatic ‘yes’ to these questions greets me reassuringly.
This kind of stability has allowed me to lead the Peer Support movement for my tribe in India since the last five years. It goes to show that one man's challenge can become someone else's inspiration.
When I began by saying recovery is contextual in bipolar disorder, it has to be seen in context of the journey I traversed. If you would have walked in my shoes and experienced the torment which I did for years, then you would be able to gauge how far I have come now.
And I am quietly confident about the path ahead.
