The Scale

How are you?

A question that is asked more often in the USA than here in the UK. You can't progress through a checkout line at a grocery store, Wal-Mart or most other stores in the States without being asked to comment on your well being. Of course it's not usually a genuine question, but I still miss the custom.

"Good, thanks."
"Fine."
"Okay."
Smiles uncomfortably and nods.

All possible answers to the question...except if you're me. I say I'm okay when I'm not. I don't mean to lie- sometimes I don't know how to explain how I am.

After I left the hospital having received my diagnosis, Mom had a difficult time figuring out how I was really feeling. She was a four hour plane ride away but even farther away in understanding the intricacies of mental illness. Aunt C was the one who provided the solution.

Conveniently, my Aunt's best friend is bipolar. I mean conveniently for me, having an aunt who understands...not convenient for her best friend! At any rate, Aunt C shared with me a method that she uses to ask Ann how she's doing...a simple scale using numbers. I've adopted the system and use it mostly with Mom or with other people that are too far away to actually see how I am.

My scale is dependent on understanding that a normal "Whoever knew she was bipolar!" rating is 5-6. The remainder of the scale breaks down like this:
1 Needs to be in hospital
2 Depressed...do not leave alone for long amounts of time
3 Sad but can be trusted to be alone
4 A little low but okay
5-6 Happy days are here again!
7 Woo! Feeling a bit hyper, but under control (recognises that she feels hyper)
8 Woohoo! Hands may be a little shaky, has a difficult time concentrating ...should not go shopping! Let's organize a closet instead.
9 Awesome! Incredible! I'm the Queen of the World (and Monsoon/Gap/Waterstones here I come!) Alternatively...I'm an angry, annoyed woman who is highly sensitive to noise and light.
10 Puppy dog moments

My most manic moment that I don't mind sharing took place just a few days after returning home from the hospital. My cousin had flown down to North Carolina to visit me in the hospital and take me home. After she left, it all hit...and I felt so alone. Determined to not sink into the depths of depression, I swung the other direction. I remember sitting in my apartment looking out at a blue sky and thinking "I wish I had a dog to keep me company." And...I was out the door! Within an hour I had a two year old from the local shelter and was walking around the local pet superstore buying loads of stuff for Frasier.

Well, Frasier was a Jack Terrier. Jack Terriers are MANIC! Having decided Frasier needed a bath, I put him in my bathtub ( I know, I know...but I don't think logically when I'm manic) and he went crazy- running in circles, barking and I simply started crying. Soon he was running around the living room and I didn't know what to do except load up Frasier and all of his new belongings, drive them back to the shelter and answer the puzzled volunteer's question, "I'm sorry!!!! I'm bipolar." whilst shoving little Frasier back in her arms. I cried all the way home.

That's a puppy dog moment.

How you doing? Today I'm a strong 6.