Posted in Abstract Art, bipolar disorder, Depression, Mental Illness, Psych meds, Sketchbook

Inside Deb’s Brain

Inside Deb’s brain is all manner of odd things.

My doctor knows I adjust the dosage of my antidepressant from time to time. Most of the time, I only need 100mg. When the depression gets bad, I go up to 150mg. When the depression is really bad, I go up to 200mg. Yesterday, I started with 150mg. When I felt dangerously close to suicidal, I took another 100mg for a total of 250mg. I’ve never taken that much before. 

If there’s a reason for my depression, antidepressants don’t do much. If the depression is a function of bipolar disorder, I need as much antidepressant as necessary to keep me above suicidal. A couple hours after I took the final dose, I felt normal. That’s how I know it was bipolar depression. My brain didn’t work properly. Why? Who knows? Certainly not the drug companies. Although they aggressively market selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, no one knows if there is an increase in the available serotonin. Or if any of the reuptake molecules are inhibited. 

It’s unsettling to live with a brain that has a mind of its own. To live with mood swings that aren’t caused by anything that is happening in my life. To constantly wonder if my reaction to something is a function of bipolar disorder or if “normal” people would react the way I’ve reacted. 

For years, I’ve wanted to do an art piece that shows what bipolar disorder feels like. So far, I’ve been unsuccessful. I’ve a final painting assignment for my painting class. We’re supposed to do something that’s post modern. I’ve talked with my teacher and I’m doing something that’s….I’m not sure what it is. I want to show what manic feels like. I want to show what depressed feels like. I want to show what the dreaded mixed episode – simultaneously manic and depressed – feels like. I want to show the thoughts that inhabit those episodes. 

The photo marked #1 is where the idea for the painting started. Using a brown sharpie, I wrote some of the crap my mother said to me. Using a blue sharpie, I wrote how I deal with that crap.  I thought about braiding the strips. Then I thought about sewing the strips onto fabric. I’m not sure what I will do with the strips. 

The photo marked #2 is a more or less final sketch of what the painting will look like. Most people who don’t live with a mental illness aren’t aware that there are levels of depression below suicidal. A depression so deep, you have to feel better in order to kill yourself. It sucks being that far down, but at least I’m safe there. With bipolar disorder, the choices for the mood swings are: Manic, Depressed, Mixed – where one is both manic and depressed. Mixed episodes suck.

I have a form of synesthesia. I see energy flows as colors. When I see purple flooding into my brain, I know I’m healing.

I’m linking with Nina Marie here: http://ninamariesayre.blogspot.com

My Spoonflower shop is here: https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/deb_thuman

My on-line store, Deb Thuman Art, is here: http://www.DebThumanArt.com

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I retired from the Public Defender Dept. November 12, 2015 after 16 health destroying years. Now, I'm a full time multi-media artist and writer on a new adventure. As an artist, I create with beads, fabric, fiber, and ceramic clay. Sometimes separately; sometimes in assorted combinations. You can find my on-line store at: www.debthumanart.com.

One thought on “Inside Deb’s Brain

  1. “a depression so deep you have to feel better in order to kill yourself” that really spoke to my heart. I’m there NOW and I’ve never had the words to explain it. I love your photos, Deb. I think the first one with the strips of writing just arrayed as they are is absolutely perfect – just like that. I’m so sorry you’re going through so much pain and I’m so glad you’re wise enough to take your meds. I’m so glad you’re still here. You are so precious. Please don’t give up and please keep writing xxxx

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