thoughts

Book Count

/ L Jack Claussen / 4 Comments

I’ve recently noticed that many people see the number of books read in single year as a badge of honor.  Instead of reading to enjoy the act, they rack up books how Michael Myers accumulates a body count.  When I’m reading a book, I feel this urge to rush through it to add it to my yearly list.

But I realized I hate this idea.  I am a slow reader and I was late to reading in general.  For years, I saw reading as a chore.  I rarely found pleasure in it.  Grad school made the idea of ever reading for pleasure again seem impossible.

It took many months before I read a book for fun after I graduated.  I’ve been allowing myself to read whatever interests me in the moment.  I’m avoiding a long list of books “To Read” nagging at me.  That would put me back in the mindset of being forced to read a book out of some unknown obligation to some imagined idea that a book list matters.

I find bragging about book counts to be misguided.  It isn’t’ quantity but quality that matters.  I feel the same way about other media like shows, movies, etc.  It needs to stop. Who care that you read 100 books in one year if you didn’t learn or grow from the experience?  Even academic reading should achieve some level of pleasure, of expanding one’s mind.

So I’m going to continue to read at my usual slow pace, allowing myself to savor a book like a fine wine instead of a cheap beer.

The Workspace Fallacy

/ L Jack Claussen / Leave a comment

During this pandemic (and even before), I’ve been severely struggling to create anything new.  Although this struggle cannot be pinned to only one factor, it doesn’t help that I have a fixation with creating the perfect workspace to produce my writing.  I have detailed opinions about lighting, chair height, and desks—I have so many nitpicks about the perfect desk.

After some deep thinking, I realized that my quest for the ultimate workspace is only causing me to put off writing.  It doesn’t help that I’m still, after 2 years, recovering from burnout after grad school.  But that aside, my focus is in the wrong place.

I confess, I hated my desk from grad school that sat in my home office.  It was worn and the edge was sharp where the two composite pieces met, tearing into my wrists as I typed.  I recently ordered a custom desk from a local woodworker after waiting months and not writing at my old desk or laying out my work at the wide dining table in my open concept dining/kitchen/living area.  My new desk is here, and I still find myself resisting sitting down in my office.  Why?  My lighting is great.  My new desk is exactly what I wanted, down to every detail.  My chair is at the right height.  Why did I resist the siren song of my favorite pen and a fresh sheet of yellow legal notepad paper?

Simply put, I was aiming for a goal that I would never achieve.  My perfectionism was blocking me from seeing my priorities clearly.  There is no perfect place or workspace to write if you can’t bring yourself to just sit down and do the work.

Today, I sat down at my new desk and I made myself focus on the act of writing.  I pulled out my old college tricks—Pomodoro timer, noise-cancelling headphones, background music—and I wrote.  In fact, I wrote this post.

A persistent myth about writing is the false idea of “waiting for my Muse.”  Instead of having a Muse, I aim for achieving the Flow State where time is meaningless, and ideas seem to flow freely.  It is very difficult for me to slip into the Flow State, especially after burning out.  Although I hate to admit it, I have better focus if I know I have a looming deadline.  The time crunch forces me to get down to work.  This fact helped all throughout college and grad school.  With a lack of deadlines, I don’t do my work.  I put it off.  Then, the pandemic hit and my mental health tanked, so I didn’t find solace in the idea of creating.  I felt only urges to move, to work with my hands, but not to create.  TO be fair to myself, this is a weird time for everyone; the normal rules do not apply.

In my restlessness, I sought to craft the exact workspace that would bring me quickly into the Flow State.  It was something physical and tangible for me to focus on.  I kept talking about writing, but I didn’t.  I set up an accountability system with a friend who is also a writer, and I still didn’t write.  I promised myself “tomorrow” when I deleted the day’s set hour for writing from my Google calendar. But today I somehow felt different.  I didn’t want to write, exactly, but I knew I needed to write.  Much like a tough workout, I always feel better after a good writing session.  I just have to set myself up—drink, headphones, lighting, etc.—and do the work.  If sweat is a sign of a good workout, a calm satisfaction is the sign of a good writing session.

No environment will ever be perfect.  Writers will always come up with some fault.  In college, I put off a task until the start of the hour.  If my clock read 10:05 am, I would tell myself I had 55 minutes to mess around before I definitely had to start the task at 11am on the dot.  Writing is a struggle against silence, and if we do not write, we are silencing ourselves.

Self-Talk and Mental Health

/ L Jack Claussen / 2 Comments

Over the past year (2019), I’ve been working hard to change how I talk to myself mentally.  My biggest hurdle was my inner voice.  It often tells me to give up and let it go.  But during the last few months, I’ve noticed a change of tone and dialogue.  Instead of “Give up; it’s okay,” I hear, “I’ve got this; you can do it!”  This makes me push myself for one more rep, one more minute, one more whatever.

This change has altered my mindset completely.  I don’t just give up and quit when faced with a challenge; I try to keep going until I’m satisfied, or I can go no more physically.  It has created new mental discipline I’ve never had before in my life.  The only time I remember pushing myself physically is when I did Tae Kwon Do as a preteen, almost two decades ago.

My new mindset has had such a positive effect on my mental health.  I tend to be acutely aware of my mood and mental wellbeing, since I’ve dealt with bipolar disorder and anxiety since I was 15 years old.  Over the past few months, I’ve noticed a general smoothing out of the swings I typically experience.  My highs are less severe, and my lows are less devastating.  My bounce-back time has also become shorter, from depressed to stable in only a day or two.  That’s not to say that my mental illness is gone; it is just less intense.

I crave the mental boost brought on by a good workout.  It helps carry me through my day, especially during long dark winter days.  That said, I know winter and January in particular will test my newfound mental stability.  The holidays make early winter more palatable, but after New Year’s Day, it is one long laborious wait until spring.  It usually takes an immense toll on my mental and physical health.

I need to keep telling myself, “You’ve got this!”

What is Hypomania?

/ L Jack Claussen / 7 Comments

The image of the maniac is ingrained in our culture.  What is a common image of mania?  While I hate to perpetuate the stereotype, I even think of Jack Nicholson in The Shining, hacking through a door with an ax.

What do you think of when you hear the word mania?  You may imagine a business person, working long hours and getting things done.  You may even discount the term mania because you think it is a harmless thing, like Sonic Mania or Mattress Mania, where some spokesperson in a commercial shouts “These low prices are crazy!”8E4463B6-F3FD-4B1C-916B-5C333B453D80.png

But that is not the normal or reality for most people struggling with mania.  How would I know?  I know because I have bipolar disorder and I often deal with something very similar to mania, which is hypomania.

What is Hypomania?

First, let’s look at a definition because I’m a good English scholar.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, mania is “one of the aspects of bipolar (manic-depressive) mood disorder, characterized particularly by euphoria, grandiose thought, rapid speech expressing loosely connected thoughts (flight of ideas), decreased need for sleep, increased physical activity, and sometimes delusions or hallucinations” (OED).

But I said hypomania, not mania.  So what does hypomania mean?

Hypomania is defined as “A minor form of mania, often part of the manic-depressive cycle, characterized by elation and a feeling of well-being together with quickness of thought” (OED).  But this definition, in my opinion, is underselling the condition.  As someone with bipolar disorder, I occasionally suffer from hypomania and it is far from simple.

The Reality

When I’m hypomanic, I can go with little or no sleep.  Despite this lack of sleep, I feel an extreme boost of energy, like lightning in my veins.  I speak quickly, think quickly, zip around the house like The Flash or Quicksilver.16377486875_bd27a6a6a2_o

I am invincible.  I can do no wrong.  Every idea is pure gold.  I need to buy that useless something when I don’t have much money in the bank.  My mood changes on a pin, from happy to angry to irritable.  I forget to eat.  I think up a thousand new projects that need to happen now.  Then I reach a tipping point.  I become highly aware that I’m out of control.  I’m dangerous to myself and those around me.  I need to stop.

But I can’t stop.  I can’t focus.  I can’t come down off this high.  My thoughts and actions become foreign to me, to the point of annoyance.  I can’t control myself.

Then the crash. My seemingly endless amount of energy falls to E. Unknown.jpeg

Now there is only regret and exhaustion.  Can I return this item on Amazon or in store?  Do I really want to start a podcast?  When was the last time I had a meal?  I did what?

Depression begins to creep in.  I go from Flash/Quicksilver to some slow turtle creature.  My life becomes boring and everything takes effort, like walking through Jello.

What Can Be Done? 

When I describe this process to people, they are usually stunned.  Then they all ask the same question: How do you recover?  Here, I’d like to break down my answer.

First, I have to acknowledge that yes, I am hypomanic.  I am experiencing something that may feel wonderful at the time but it will pass.

Second, I try to minimize the damage.  I avoid Amazon.com, which is my Kryptonite (apparently, I have superheroes on the brain today).  If I cannot avoid Amazon, I put all the things I want to buy in my Wishlist or my Cart, but I do not press “Buy.”  For food, I stock my fridge with easy-to-make items and snacks.  I schedule my day to include meals and I will sometimes set reminders telling me to eat.

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Third, I take advantage of it.  The ideas that come when I’m hypomanic can be great.  But I don’t pursue them all.  I write them down in a notebook or an app like Evernote.  I get everything out of my head when it hits.  Maybe one day, I’ll start that podcast, but not today.  Once the ideas are out, I don’t have to dwell on them.

Fourth, I try not to let it interrupt my schedule.  My hypomania is typically tied to my monthly cycle, so I know when it is coming.  I block off days that I know I will be hypomanic and do not try to be productive on those days.  If I have an appointment, I try to reschedule.  But some things can’t be avoided.  If I have classes or something that can’t be moved, I tell the person in advance that I’m feeling a little off today, just a heads up.  I don’t go into detail unless I have to; they don’t always need to know.

Last, I try to fight it.  I try to sit down and write or read with no distractions.  I use my energy to clean the house–might as well put it to good use. (PS- I generally hate cleaning, but when I’m hypomanic, it is a great outlet.)  I try to be calm and not give into the hyper energy that I feel coursing through my body.  This doesn’t always work, but I try, which I feel is more important.

Conclusion

While hypomania, or mania, is not a walk in the park, it is manageable.  The key to dealing with it is the same key to dealing with any aspect of mental health: self-awareness.  Look at the patterns in your life.  Notice things that seem to crop up.  Keep a journal or even a mood journal.  I use an app on my iPhone called iMoodJournal, which is also available on Google Play (link here).  I’ve been using this app for over a year and it is great for tracking moods and patterns.

Also, know that you are not alone.  There are many people who struggle with the same things.  Reach out.  Ask your friends and family for help.  Ask your doctor.  Look for communities online.  I am a member of a few groups on Facebook, including TWLOHA,  who remind me that my struggle is valid and I don’t have to be in it alone.

Note: If you want to reach out to me, you can reach me on Twitter @LeslieJClaussen or via my website, LeslieJClaussen.com.

Update (May 2019)

/ L Jack Claussen / Leave a comment

Hello all!

The plan from here on out is to write more.

In order to do this, I’m setting up a writing schedule to resurrect my writing habit.  I’m be blogging more, with more content in the next couple of months.  My plan is to focus first on simple essays and then move onto revisiting my MA thesis around July.  I’m publishing this update to hold myself accountable to the vast void of the internet.

Look out for more content and possibly some stories and pictures from my recent travels to Europe!

An Open Letter to Stephen Fry

/ L Jack Claussen / Leave a comment

Mr. Stephen Fry is a recent hero of mine.  I must admit that before I watched the 2nd season of Bones, I did not know who he was.  But I’m glad I decided to look into the work of Fry, beyond his role as Gordon-Gordon.

Fry in Bones

Fry is an actor, comedian, writer, activist, humanist, and general know-it-all when it comes to many subjects.  Here is a short video (3 mins) narrated by Fry on the subject of happiness and humanism: 

He is also an active member of the GLBT community and he has made a BBC doc on the attitudes towards homosexuality around the world, called Out There.  Here is a link to the BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p01fttn0

But the reason I found Stephen Fry most endearing is not his views or his personality (though he is fascinating).  I connect with Fry because he and I share something at the core of our being: we are both bipolar.  In the mid-2000s, he made a doc, again with the BBC, about what it means to be bipolar in the world today and many of the factors that enter into a person’s life if they are bipolar.  I highly recommend this two part doc and have a link to the first part here:

Why am I writing this, you may ask?  Yes, I am an anglophile to my greatest depth.  Indeed, I find Fry’s accent, like many of his countrymen, to be irresistible.  However, it is Fry’s humanity that charms me the most.  He gives bipolar disorder a face; not the face of a “mad” person, but a human face of great diversity and range, full of people who have and will give humanity great things despite their suffering.

After reading Moab is My Washpot, an autobiography by Fry from 1997, I see that he has suffered like my father and so many others, simply because he was born before there was proper/healthy care for those with mental illness.  He was finally diagnosed at age 37, but his battle began during boyhood.  My diagnosis came at roughly age 14, after suffering for two years or so.  We have both felt the highs and lows of this mental illness–the mania and the depression, each with its own struggles.  As he points out, speaking out is the only way to fight the stigma and tell people what the reality of this mental illness.

For anyone with bipolar or a family member or friend, I strongly encourage you to watch his doc, The Secret Life of The Manic Depressive (video above).  Talking about mental illness is the only way to help those who do not know what they are experiencing, the pain they feel, the ups and downs.  Mania and depression are not normal behavior and you need help.  There is so much life out there that you are missing or feeling that drug called mania that disrupts your whole life, that speed or slowness that no one understands…  It is all part of this new normal that each bipolar person needs to come to and develop until it just seems normal.  No, others do not always understand, even if they try their hardest, they are not in our head.  This is mental illness and one of us is visibly bringing to light: Mr. Stephen Fry.

And my hope is to add myself to that list of people trying to help others or speak out, from Carrie Fischer to No Stigma to Stephen Fry.

In short, I don’t care about his politics, though I do love his talent, I am a fan and fellow advocate of Stephen Fry.  And I can not wait to see what more he gives to the world, via books, television, film, documentaries, and so many other gifts that you’d have to ask him about it.