Farewell … and greetings

It’s time to say goodbye … and hello.

After several years of writing on this blog site, I’m moving over to a new site, ericschmiedl.org … it’s a pleasure to say hello on this new frontier.

I want to expand my horizons and I discovered that my old site was limited. Therefore, I created the new site. My new posts will now appear on ericschmiedl.org as opposed to this site.

This new blog site will focus on my ongoing dealings with my bipolar disorder and associated topics, as was the case with the old one. For example, I’ve been on a weight-loss journey for about five years now, coming down to my current 320 pounds from an all-time high of about 400 – the bipolar medications I’m on played a big role in my weight gain. My quest to get to about 240 pounds continues.

I’ll also be discussing mental health in general along the way with this new blog. And I might throw in a few surprises here and there.

Please, stay tuned, and join me in this new venture.

On exclusion … and inclusion

My wife and I watched a YouTube movie last night that got me thinking about what it’s like to be part of the in crowd, and what it’s like to not be part of that group.

In the movie, primarily about teenagers at a particular high school, some of the kids were excluded from the group of popular kids because they were different. They were cast out because they were perceived to be something apart. And two of these kids were different because they followed the beat of their own drummer.

I can relate. When I entered high school in Grade 9, I was a fat kid and felt different because of that. I was apart. When I lost weight the following year, I felt more accepted by the other kids and felt far different than the year before.

As an adult, I had similar experiences for a far different reason. In 1998, when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I again felt different … apart. Some people accepted me and my condition for what it was while others – even long-time friends – treated me as if I were untouchable. They didn’t know what to make of me, I suppose.

And I risked being shunned in the wider community when I wrote my memoir, Don Quixote Versus the Devil, about my bipolar disorder misadventures, about eight years ago. That was true to some extent – when I didn’t show up at a certain event (one that I had never planned on being at in the first place), one person commented that I must have been “in one of my moods.” That had nothing to do with it, yet the perception and accompanying stigma still existed.

However, I also found acceptance – and inclusion – after writing the book as well. One prime example of that is when I shared my writing with a book club at the local branch of the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA). I got rave reviews for my work from that bunch … and it felt good.

So, here are my examples of exclusion and inclusion. I’m sure you have some of your own to think about.

On gambling, four years later

I considered, for the first time in four years, not to write this annual blog on slot machine gambling.

However, if this helps even one person out there get away from the grip of the slots, it’ll be well worth it to continue with this yearly ritual.

One of the things that helped solidify my anti-slots stance in the past year – as if I needed more convincing after wasting countless time and money on the one-armed bandits up to several years past, when I self-excluded myself from Ontario’s casinos four years ago almost to the day – was reading Addiction by Design. The book, by Natasha Dow Schüll (an associate professor from the United States) is a blueprint for why people should steer clear of the slots.

It isn’t only just the machines – the biggest money maker on casino floors – that lure you in. The author notes that everything from the design of the carpeting (which prompts people to head to machines) to the lack of windows (to make you lose track of time) in casinos is aimed at parting you with your money.

It’s insidious. And it’s a major-league cash grab.

Due to COVID-19, that financial grab has been slowed in Ontario and other locales in recent times as casinos have either been shut outright or reduced in their capacity. It’s one of the few good things about the pandemic.

But there are still gamblers out there just waiting to play the slots again. And that’s a shame.

But there is hope.

ConnexOntario is a 24-hour, year-round way to access such hope for those with a gambling or mental health problem. It’s toll-free and anonymous – call 1-866-531-2600 to take your first step against the slots.

Health update of March 1, 2021

One step at a time.

Back on Jan. 4, I wrote that I believe 2021 – after the mess of 2020 that we all faced – would be my year. And I’m working towards that, in stages.

To start off in the battle against the weight gain that I saw last year, I resumed my intermittent fasting regimen. This is something that I had let slide, particularly in the final months of 2020 – I was determined to get back to fasting. So, I worked my way to an 18-hour (fasting window) and six-hour (eating window) discipline. I even threw in some 24-hour fasts for good measure.

Next, to add to when I ate, I focused on what I ate. Increasingly, I cut out the junk and reduced my meat consumption in favour of more vegetables (I often include a small salad rich in such things as romaine lettuce, cucumbers, celery, and more in my diet).

Then came booze. I’m not saying I’m cutting out alcohol forever (that’s too much pressure) but I haven’t had a drop in the past two weeks. Booze not only contains empty energy (with no nutrients to speak of) but it also puts fat burning on the back burner. Your liver has to deal with the alcohol in your system before burning fat, so getting the sauce out of the picture, at least for now, is, I believe, a wise move. Water, green tea, and black coffee are now my drinks of choice.

And I’ve already added more walking to my exercise routine. Next up is a return to weightlifting and low-impact exercise videos.

On Jan. 4, at my biweekly shot of bipolar medication and weigh-in at Ontario’s Woodstock Hospital, I weighed 329.4 pounds, which was up substantially from the same time in 2020 (although, thankfully, still down a lot from my all-time high of close to 400 pounds). My blood pressure that day came in at 134 over 84.

Today, my weight was 323.4 pounds and my blood pressure was 130 over 79.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. My health journey is underway.

On suicide prevention

If you’re familiar with the M*A*S*H movie or television series, you’ll no doubt recall the song Suicide is Painless. I heartily disagree with the teenager who wrote the lyrics to this piece.

Suicide might be painless (to a degree, depending on the method) to the person who dies. For those who are left behind, however, there is plenty of pain. I speak from my own experience here.

My high school friend, Larry, was a jovial kind of guy and he liked to practice magic. In fact, he put on magic shows at our school in Kitchener, Ontario and they seemed quite popular with the students. He was also one of the first of our school crowd to own a car.

To sum it up, Larry was a friendly and popular guy. That’s part of the reason it hurt so much that, one night, I found Larry’s car had smashed into a highway overpass. The car was totalled and he spent time recovering in hospital.

It was some time after his hospital release that he confided in me that the crash was intentional … Larry had wanted his life to end. He swore me to secrecy and I made him promise that he would come to me if he ever had suicidal thoughts again.

In the end, he broke that promise. A year later, in a second car, he put a hose from the tailpipe through a car window and died. I was the last one to see Larry alive. We were 20.

It was then that I went through what I would later learn was my first full-blown bipolar manic episode (I wasn’t diagnosed until 11 years later). It hurt like hell.

And Larry had a lot to give. I wonder, all this time later, what he would have done with his life.

If you are having thoughts of suicide, I urge you to call 911 or your local Reach Out line (in Woodstock, Ontario the number is 519-433-2023). Your loved ones will thank you for it.

On hypomania, two years later

About two years ago, I went through a bout of bipolar disorder hypomania.

This was less than a full-blown manic episode – indeed, hypo is defined as ‘under’ or ‘slightly’ – and that nicely sums up how it felt … kind of. I went through a feeling of being on top of the world, coming up with all kinds of writing projects along the way. Some of those projects have seen fruition, while others were somewhat disjointed and, once I exited my hypomanic state, they were unworkable.

This state, while it was some cause for alarm for my family and friends, was a lot more desirable compared to being in a full-blown episode. More often than not, the full-blown episodes I have gone through in the past resulted in a hospital stay. I appreciate the care I have received on the hospital front for those episodes – at Kitchener’s Grand River Hospital and Woodstock Hospital, both in Ontario (my last such stay was 15 years ago). Even though I’m thankful for the care I received, those episodes will hopefully be a thing of my past.

Yes, the full-blown variety of episodes result, ultimately, in a detachment from reality. The hypomanic version keeps me in control, although at an accelerated rate (that’s not to say I want to be hypomanic, to be sure).

The biggest thing I remember about my last bout of hypomania was being the doorman for charitable organization Operation Sharing’s Christmas Day Event of 2018. I greeted everyone with gusto – and then some. It was an invigorating day, to say the least, and I was over the top for it.

Good memories, to be sure. But if I had to do it over again, I’d prefer to be on the straight and narrow route rather than hypomanic.

A couple of years back, I published a list of tips or things to keep an eye on for people with bipolar disorder who want to deal with an episode. I feel this anniversary warrants publishing them again. Here they are:

• Sleep (as much as possible)
• Carry on with meds
• Exercise
• Nutrition
• Don’t get too overworked with other people’s problems
• Don’t go over the top on social media
• Keep lines of communication open with friends and family
• Don’t do pot
• Keep lid on alcohol and coffee
• Drink plenty of water

A time to reflect

I have a lot to be thankful for.

Despite – or in some ways, because of – my bipolar disorder, I have a list of things that I’m fortunate about. These include, at the top of the list, my beloved wife, Marilyn. She has stood by me steadfastly through good times and bad. And I have many friends who have done the same.

I was watching an International Bipolar Foundation presentation on YouTube last night about avenues through which people with bipolar can find fulfilling, satisfying work. Even though I’ve lost some jobs along the way due to my mental illness, I do have a great work life through charitable organization Operation Sharing (for which I am director of print media, among other things) and The Woodstock Local, for which I do freelance writing on issues in and around Woodstock, Ontario. These are far from full-time gigs, mind you, but they give me purpose. They give me reasons to get up in the morning and meet the day.

It is around this time of year that I get reflective about my bipolar disorder, and that’s because of the upcoming Bell Let’s Talk Day. This year that day falls on Jan. 28 and during that day, Bell will donate five cents to Canadian mental health initiatives for every applicable text, call, tweet or TikTok video using #BellLetsTalk.

Let’s talk about what we have to be thankful for, and for what is to come.

Health update of Jan. 4, 2021

I believe 2021 is going to be my year.

After the mess of 2020 that we all faced, I have high hopes for this year. And that starts today.

My weight has crept up and up during the past year, as I’m sure is the case for many people. At no time was that more evident than during the holidays. At my biweekly shot of bipolar medication and weigh-in at Ontario’s Woodstock Hospital, I weighed 329.4 pounds, which is up substantially from the same time in 2020 (although, thankfully, still down a lot from my all-time high of close to 400 pounds). As for my blood pressure, it came in at 134 over 84.

So, what do do?

For starters, I’m going to resume, in earnest, intermittent fasting. I’ll even throw in 24-hour fasts once or twice a week. Hand-in-hand with that will come a renewed emphasis on nutritious, whole foods (and I have my wife, Marilyn, to thank for her great suppers, which put an emphasis on a variety of vegetables). And curbing alcohol consumption will go along with what I’m taking in … or not taking in.

On exercise, I can’t go to the gym due to COVID-19 but I can go for more walks and do low-impact exercise videos on YouTube, in addition to lifting weights at home.

Indeed, I now have the mindset that I’m treating all this as a job. If you don’t go to work, you don’t get paid. Well, if you don’t show up for the workout, you don’t get the payoff.

Yes, I view 2021 as my year. Here’s hoping you make it yours as well.

Reflecting on time

At this time of year, I find myself reflecting on time itself. Past, present, and future.

Today I am thinking of all three and am wondering what I would do if I could redo my life from a certain point. If I were to restart things at Grade 3 – when I met one of my favourite teachers, Mr. Wiens – would the trajectory of my life have gone a different path? Knowing the mistakes I made along the way, could I correct things? Would they be better or worse as a result?

Later, in my high school years, would I have better scholastic discipline? Would my grades be better, and could I have gone to university earlier? Would I have asked out one of the high school girls I had a crush on, but didn’t have the nerve to approach?

And when my friend Larry died by suicide when I was 20, would I go into such a tailspin again when my bipolar disorder first surfaced? Indeed, would I choose to make friends with him in high school in the first place, knowing his fate?

Would I take the same jobs I had in the past? For example, the grocery store job I took as a teenager led me to some lifelong friendships, including one with my best man. Would I miss meeting those people if I didn’t take the job? Who else would I have met instead?

Another job I turned down, just because I had accepted an editor’s position in Dorchester, Ontario the day before, was as a wire editor in northern Ontario. Where would my writing career be today if I had taken the wire editor job instead?

If I had made changes along the way, I might not have met my beloved wife, Marilyn. The thought of her not being in my life breaks my heart – and the fact we are married gladdens my heart to no end.

So, if I were given the chance, I’d keep things the same. All I can do is learn from the past and make the future trajectory of my life the best it can be.

Holiday ups and downs

It’s a time of highs and lows, in more ways than one.

The coronavirus continues to run rampant in Canada as we head into the holidays. And today, the first of the vaccine against the virus became available in parts of the country, although in limited supplies – more, we’re told, of the vaccine is one the way.

And with Christmas coming, it’s also a time of holiday ups and downs. There is the joy we associate with the season, while on the down side, people can’t be with their loved ones and friends as we have become accustomed to in years past.

For people like me who are living with bipolar disorder, Christmas can be tough at the best of times. The holidays can play havoc with emotions, sending people into manic or depressive episodes. At this time, with COVID-19 ever present, this is all the truer.

In the past, when volunteering with charitable organization Operation Sharing’s Christmas Day Event, I felt an elation that, in one year in particular, put me over the top. It was well worth it, though, as many people in need were put into the holiday spirit with food, games, gifts and fellowship. Unfortunately, due to the virus, the event had to be cancelled this year, leaving many without a place to go on Christmas Day in Woodstock and surrounding Oxford County, Ontario.

If any of the people at past Christmas Day Events suffer from mental illnesses – and I’m sure at least some of them do – I can only say keep in contact with loved ones this season, even if it’s only over the phone. It’ll do you a world of good.