UC-Berkeley Students Bear
With Extremes of Mental Illness
By Sarah Mourra
Daily Californian
BERKELEY, Calif.- After Desmond Moore's first manic episode,
ambulance workers found him collapsed on an Oakland, Calif.,
street, pants unzipped, following a sleepless night in the
Oakland County jail.
"Imagine you are extremely aware of everything going
on around you, and you're moving really quickly," Moore
says. "At the time I was wild and crazy, and out of my
mind."
The day before Moore had jumped into a taxicab with no money,
overcome by an impulsive need to get out of town. After being
let out of jail and found on the street, Moore was taken to
John George Psychiatric Hospital in Hayward, Calif.
Clinicians diagnosed Moore, a UC Berkeley sophomore at the
time, with bipolar disorder, a psychiatric condition characterized
by cycles of depression alternating with periods of mania.
The disorder, which often manifests between the ages of 18
and 24 years, easily disrupts the lives of students like Moore,
who left school in 1996 following the incident in Oakland.
Although he returned in 2000, he left again the following
year after a violent confrontation with police.
University Health Services counselors have seen a sharp increase
in students with bipolar disorder, says Deborah Begley, a
social worker at the Tang Center. National surveys affirm
this trend.
Begley attributes part of this increase to a greater awareness
of bipolar disorder in the media, leading to earlier diagnoses.
Bipolar students who may not have been able to attend college
in the past are now entering universities with the help of
medical treatment.
The reason behind the onset of the disorder among college-age
students is unclear. A strong correlation exists between those
with the untreated disorder and substance abuse. Professionals
disagree whether drugs are the trigger or the self-medicative
cure.
Forty-one percent of those with the disorder use substances
when their illness is not successfully managed. Only 13 percent
use them when their illness is under control, according to
Ron Elson, chief psychiatrist at University Health Services.
"Drugs and alcohol can sometimes make something worse
that is already there," he says. "It can destabilize
people who may be OK and often push them over the edge."
Gabe Melero, a UC Berkeley senior in his seventh year, says
bipolar disorder runs "up and down the family tree."
Self-medication was a remedy learned from family members.
"Among the males in my family the attitude has historically
been that if you're feeling bad, you can take something for
it - but you don't go to a doctor for that something,"
Melero says. "Anglo culture would classify that as self-medication,
but in my family it's called something else."
Moore, who is black, also faced cultural perceptions about
the disorder following his diagnosis.
"In the black community they look at mental issues and
people increased dramatically in the past few decades, according
to the National Institute of Mental Health. More than 90 percent
of suicide victims suffer from a serious psychiatric illness
at the time of their death.
"All I would want to do was put on some Frank Sinatra,
climb into my bathtub and take all my pills at once,"
Moore says. "You don't just want to die, you wish you
were never born. You ponder that every day for months."
Melero, who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder his third
year, says suicide seemed like the only option during the
spring of 2001. He felt the lithium he was taking to stabilize
his mood was not working. So Melero took an overdose of Xanax,
a central nervous system depressant used to treat anxiety
and insomnia.
To Melero's surprise, he woke up the morning after taking
the pills. He says he knew immediately that he needed to go
home.
"Suicide comes with the pain and tunnel vision of bipolar
disorder," says Jon Pennington, a UC Berkeley graduate
student diagnosed with the condition. "People cannot
see their way out of their own pain. Many of us have been
there."
While suicidal thoughts characterize the depressive side
of the disorder, the manic state is marked by hypomanic creative
energy that quickly escalates into a hypermanic state of frenzied
activity and paranoia.
Melero compares the intense high of the manic state to doing
cocaine.
"You have a lot of energy, and you're very egotistical,"
he says. "Towards the end you become delusional - suddenly
every security guard in every store is staring at you, suddenly
people on the street are laughing at you."
In one hypomanic episode, Melero wrote an entire short story
in one sitting.
"I felt like I was king of the world," he says.
"But I could also feel myself losing control of everything
in my life. The way I looked at (my manic state) was that
famous people behave like this all the time. But at the same
time I felt myself completely frazzled."
The seductiveness of these energetic states often leads people
to discard their medications.
Others face difficulties just getting the right level of
medication.
Misdiagnoses further complicate bipolar disorder. Physicians
sometimes mistake the depressive episodes for chronic depression
and prescribe antidepressants like Prozac. Without mood stabilizers
like lithium or Depakote, antidepressants only aggravate the
condition.
"The way things work with the assembly line HMOs is
that if someone seems depressed they give out antidepressants,
pat them on the butt and send them home," Pennington
says. "But taking antidepressants without mood stabilizers
will send them right into a manic state."
Because of the intensity of the depressive states, school
can become a monumental task for students with bipolar disorder.
"I would sleep during the daytime and miss classes,"
Melero says. "I didn't see the day for weeks."
Beset by severe depression during his third year, Melero
did not attend classes. Although he failed both semesters,
he obtained a retroactive withdrawal from the university.
While Melero says most faculty members have responded to
his needs, several have made things more difficult.
One semester he missed about four weeks of class because
of depression. He approached a professor to explain his situation
and asked about making up missed work. The professor responded
with an e-mail that read, "I think it would be better
that you not come back at all."
Such situations can also put students on financial aid in
a bad position because falling under units means losing financial
aid.
"If someone in a wheelchair said they couldn't come
in for a few weeks because of meningitis nobody would kick
them out," Melero says. "But being bipolar is like
an invisible disability."
Still, students at UC Berkeley have a place to share these
experiences. Melero, Moore and Pennington have regularly attended
the Tang Center bipolar support group run by Begley and Elson.
It has helped them out of the isolation they often feel and
provided space to get feedback on different medications.
"There are a lot of people tripping out who don't know
why," Moore says. "You convince yourself that you're
just moody. People can go their whole lives without ever going
to a hospital. But if left unchecked you can find yourself
running down the street one day and not having any idea why."
Copyright 2003 Daily Californian
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