It wouldn’t be too much of a stretcher to call my wife “The Bird Lady.” She loves ’em. Bird feeders all over the back yard. Bird baths. Hummingbird feeders.

And they work; freeloading birds of all kinds can’t get enough of them. Even though I don’t know most of their names (Marleen helped me here), there’s an embarrassment of avian riches under the maple tree that spreads its branches over much of our back yard. Woodpeckers, both Downeys and Flickers. Goldfinch which, when the males are in their springtime finery, are like delightful yellow jewels darting through verdant shrubs that only a few weeks before were still shrouded in drab winter brown. Smug bluejays. And even the occasional Sharp Shinned Hawk that comes screaming out of nowhere looking for a snack. And, sometimes, even getting a careless little bird that is then ripped apart at leisure. After which, only a mournful circle of feathers and a few tiny bones marks the spot of the kill on the back lawn.

The Stars Of The Show

But as entertaining as the above cast of characters might be, they pale in comparison with our Broad-Tailed Hummingbird friends. It’s a toss up as to whether they’re best described as reckless or paranoid. One minute, the aggressor is furiously chasing a rival away from “his” feeder. The next, the tables are turned and the aggressor is zigzagging into a neighbor’s yard with the erstwhile “victim” hot on his broad tail. The fact that there’s a vacant feeder only a few yards away on the other side of the yard apparently makes no difference; rather than a square meal, the fussing and feuding seems to be the real objective. It’s hard to imagine how many precious calories that these tiny creatures squander in their phony “war games”. But maybe it’s not so hard to imagine-given that their bird brains can’t be much larger than the tip of a well sharpened pencil.

These tiny birds, in short, provide graphic, living color demonstrations of what “fight or flight” can look like.

Bipolar Disorder. And Fight Or Flight.

With the type of bipolar I disorder that I’ve experienced, the “fight” phase comes in the form of mania. Restless energy. Self-confidence that can spill over to aggressiveness and a short temper. Delusions of grandeur. Financial recklessness. A racing mind that meant that I could go for days with little or no sleep. To one degree or another, I’ve known them all.

The “flight” phase? Depression. An “I can’t bear to get out of bed this morning” kind of depression. A self-contempt that knew scarcely any bounds. A bleak darkness that left me yearning to escape myself. A darkness that left me carefully plotting my own demise.

And perhaps the most terrifying aspect of the experience? Knowing, with a virtual certainty, that the higher the high, the lower the low. Like seeing myself in a slow motion car wreck. That went on for years. And then for decades.

How Do You Spell Relief?

But I finally came to my senses and got help. For the last decade or so I’ve periodically met with a psychiatrist. And he’s prescribed a bunch of pills I usually take at night before I lay me down to sleep. I suppose this list is a far cry from what else might be available out there, but it’s what I know. And you’d best buckle up-these rascals are tongue twisting mouthfuls:

• Depakote: Goes by a host of names. Treats a range of illnesses, including bipolar, epilepsy, and migraines. No-one seems to know exactly why it works.
• Risperidone: In addition to bipolar, it takes on schizophrenia and the irritability associated with autism. Again, not entirely clear why it works.
• Metoprolol: I think I take it for the shakes. Which, I think, are a side effect of all the other drugs. But if it’s not easy to keep track of all the pills, imagine how tough it is to remember what they’re all supposed to do and the associated side effects.
• Zaleplon: A fast acting sleeping med; adequate rest is important to help keep bipolar in check. It comes with all the usual precautions about addiction that accompany sleeping medications.

You Pays Your Money And You Takes Your Chances

So, there you have it. One day in the life of the medicine cabinet of a guy with bipolar.

It’s really kind of interesting to think about how they came up with the meds. The brightest minds in the business often don’t seem to know why or how they work. So how did they come up with the right combinations of chemicals that did the trick? Line up a bunch of people like me who are bouncing off the ceiling one day and down in the dumps the next? And then start having them swallow chemical cocktails until something seems to smooth things out? Without, in the process, turning them into zombies? Or killing them?

I honestly don’t know. But I can say this for sure. This is one bird brain who’s glad he’s not still chasing my broad tail around the back yard.