Sister Jean
Beyond Joy – A Life with Bipolar Disorder

I am a Dominican Sister. I have a mental illness known as bipolar disorder.  Over the last 35 years I have suffered five serious manic episodes for which I have had to be hospitalized.  Each episode occurred about the same time of year.  There were differences in my behaviors, delusions and treatments.  I have a good, specific memory of each episode.

I was first hospitalized in April of 1969 at the age of 29.  At that time I was diagnosed with depression, because my manic symptoms had subsided and given way to depression. I was given some medicine but this hospital’s basic approach to wellness was physical and occupational (including biking, swimming, walking, gardening, ping-pong, pottery, sewing and art). I returned to the same hospital two years later and stayed for another 12 weeks. The wellness approach was the same. After that, I was medication-free until age 45.  My moods were level but I still had to deal with the scar of mental illness.

In July 1987 I was again hospitalized, this time in another state.  I arrived there early enough in my manic episode that this time there was no doubt my diagnosis was bipolar.  I was treated with medication and stayed for four weeks.  Although I stayed on my medications, I had to be hospitalized again three years later, for another four weeks. I had another period of stability for 13 years, and then experienced my fifth episode.

There were many similarities in the manic stages of my illness. They were times of extreme joy, creativity, talkativeness and delusions of grandeur.  I was very lively and popular.  I could go two or three nights without sleep.

The episodes involved other events in my life.  The first involved a 24-hour sit-in to protest substandard housing and unjust rents.  I took this further by sending letters to newspaper editors along with pictures of rat-infested housing supplied by the first and second graders I taught.  My energy also went toward teaching our junior choir songs to sing in church that were popular with the peace movement, but not appropriate for church.  I sat up at night writing poetry, which I considered essential to the Catholic Ecumenical movement.  My mind was going non-stop.  At one point I asked for a secretary to take dictation of all my grandiose ideas.  This was the action that got me escorted to the infirmary and later to the hospital.

During my second manic episode, I would walk the halls at night blessing each room with holy water.  I also made an unannounced visit to the rectory and woke the pastor.  I was again escorted to the infirmary and then the hospital.

My third episode occurred at the end of three weeks of religious study.  The pope was scheduled to visit my school for a Beatification ceremony.  I took it upon myself to send tape recordings to the heads of various departments telling them to clean up the campus before the Pope’s arrival.  Two items I recall mentioning were the cracks in the sidewalks and the placement of umbrellas at the entrance to the dining room. Again I was awake at night. At the noon Mass, I blew out the altar candles and announced that I could not relight them because the Pope would not allow girl altar servers.  This behavior got me hospitalized once again.

In June 1990 I went on a week-long retreat, which was very intense.  I also attended a workshop where I did an in-depth examination of my personality and character traits.  These things led me to elation and more mania.  I remember jumping up and down in front of the candy counter at the store looking for a candy dish that I was sure should be located with the candy.  I stayed at my sister’s house that night.  I was filled with energy and could not rest.  I began cleaning the house in the middle of the night.  I was extremely talkative.

In June 2003 I experienced an inner joy beyond anything I had previously known.  My faith was both deepened and challenged. Although I had been following my treatment plan and taking medication for the past 13 years, I was confused, and after three days I stopped taking my medication.  I went into a serious episode and was again hospitalized.

There is no doubt that I was joyful, creative, carefree and living out delusions of grandeur during my episodes of mania and hypomania.  However, my behavior was uncontrolled. For the most part, I was conscious of what I was doing and had a reason for doing it.  What others viewed as insane was quite acceptable to me.  For example, since I thought my body was resurrected, I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t try over and over again to walk through walls even though I got stopped each time.  Because I believed I was in paradise I stripped naked.  I believed I was pregnant.  I sang until I had to be placed in isolation and then I sang some more.  Some nights I screamed and again had to be placed in isolation.  Other times, depression dominated my mood for months.

The total of 38 weeks (out of my 62 years) that I spent in hospitals was a blessing.  Through professional care I was able to stabilize my health and continue my life and work.  Today I am stabilized on medication.  I have my family, religious community and friends to thank for their love and support.  I receive ongoing guidance from my psychologist and psychiatrist.  I support DBSA and hope to attend my third annual conference this year. 

I do not regret my life of the experiences of illness that I have had.  All is learning.  I have gone beyond joy through madness into depression and back to wellness.  I now live in the present moment of who I am.