A Livable Climate
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Mental wellness is not the absence of mood fluctuation, it is sustainable regulation within natural fluctuations.
Without its axial tilt, Earth would not have seasons. There’d be more sunshine in certain areas and more darkness in others. Life depends on this imbalance, a perfectly upright planet would be less expressive, less alive.
Earth itself survives through polarity, oscillation, and tilt. My angle: the planet is a healthy, functioning bipolar celestial body. So am I.
After surviving violence as a young adult, I entered psychiatric treatment for panic attacks, insomnia, and depression. The antidepressants worked “too well.” My internal axis tilted, and I was eventually diagnosed with cyclothymic disorder. Suddenly, my perception of light, time, urgency, possibility, and emotion no longer moved predictably.
I live a life of abundance and am deeply grateful for the path God has revealed to me. Since beginning treatment that includes medication and therapy more than fifteen years ago, I have built a life with structure, purpose, independence, creativity, and lots of love.
Medication is a complicated topic.
More than two weeks ago, my prescriber, a kind and thoughtful nurse practitioner, agreed to help me taper off a dopamine-serotonin mood stabilizer I had taken daily for years. The plan was simple: alternate between 40 milligrams one day and 20 the next. I followed it for ten days.
By day four, I began to feel off. My daily rhythms shifted: sleep, appetite, mood. My thoughts grew dim and burdensome. How could I possibly stay awake long enough to endure an entire arduous, toilsome day?I slept so much that I was in a mild comatose state.
I craved the junkiest of junk foods. One morning I had a sugar-grease-sodium bomb for breakfast: a Dr Pepper, a bacon-egg-and-cheese with hash browns, and a Mounds bar. Walking two blocks to the deli felt easier than peeling a sweet potato. A few nights I had a pizza party without the celebration.
My villains began to rise: piles. Uncompleted tasks, chores; unanswered messages and emails, the dishes, laundry. Actually, beginning or finishing anything was the worst enemy of all. My executive functioning was languishing like a daisy in direct sun.
I was struck by how something small enough to fit in the palm of my hand could redirect an entire internal climate. Then again, Earth’s seasons are governed by a 23.5-degree tilt. Such a minor shift in angle alters the illumination of an entire planet.
After a week, the familiar symptoms of depression settled in like the imprint in my mattress: fatigue, emotional lows, tension, loss of motivation, brain fog. Yet alongside the sadness was an unusual clarity about what was happening. I knew I was in transition; I simply did not know which direction the pendulum would swing. Depression distorts perception; problems feel bigger, uncertainty feels catastrophic, starting the day can be dreaded.
I would ground myself on the floor and repeat:
“Trust your body to do its job. It hasn’t failed you yet.”
Once again, my body didn’t fail me; it triumphed. I recognized the shift early, named the experience, responded and adjusted the course. My body recognized the pattern before my mind fully could. That day forward, I decided to stick to the original daily dose of 40 mg.
I observed the patterns, connected the dots, and made a rehabilitative decision. Healthy self-management requires honesty about our limitations. People wear glasses to correct their vision. Writers revise drafts.
During a routine appointment, my NP agreed: I know my body best. I am already on a low dose, and the fact that I have a treatment plan that works at all feels like a small miracle of clinical psychology.
The spiritual toolkit for recovery included the pills (obviously), sound therapy, tuning forks, music, massage, cupping, walking, yoga, breathwork, nourishing meals, ear seeds, a few loose cigarettes, and the occasional small cup of coffee.
The most restorative therapy was human connection: spending time with people I love and trust, speaking honestly, and allowing myself to be seen without performance or concealment.
Psychiatric medication does not suppress; it calibrates. Maintaining a consistent dose protects my ability to build a life that lasts longer than a seasonal shift.
With treatment, I am better able to keep balance on a half-frozen tilted rock that spins through space while orbiting a giant star. Stability is not perfect weather; it is a livable climate.
Read more about my experience as a survivor here.
If you are struggling with your mental health, you deserve support, safety, and proper care. Speak with someone you trust, a licensed mental health professional, your doctor, a spiritual advisor, or a crisis resource in your area. There is no weakness in needing help, treatment, structure, or support systems. Human beings are not designed to regulate alone.
