Another talk about my manic depression

On Sunday, January 6, we had our first meeting of 2-hour church. (From 1980 to 2018, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of  Latter-day Saints met for 3 hours each Sunday. Before that, there were three separate church meetings on Sunday in addition to children's Primary and women's Relief Society during the week.)

I had forgotten it was fast Sunday until Sunday morning. Members who are physically able abstain from food and drink for 24 hours. I'm always happy not to have to fix breakfast. I don't mind fasting; I do it often. Though, as I age, going a whole 24 hours has become more difficult.

Sacrament meeting on Fast Sunday has no assigned speakers. Anyone in the congregation may speak and bear testimony. I decided to bear my testimony.

I spoke of my experience following the counsel of the president of the Church, Russell M. Nelson. He challenged the girls and women of the Church to read the Book of Mormon between October and December. I gave it a shot and succeeded. I listened to much of it on my monthly drives to New Jersey and New York City.

Our congregation has a lot of turnover. Young families move in for advanced schooling or jobs and then move on a few years later. So, there are always people I haven't met.

I said that I wanted them all to know is that I have manic depression, or bipolar disorder. A thing that has been a real struggle for me is that one of the classic symptoms of mania is that it feels like an intense spiritual experience. That has happened to me in each of my three psychotic manias.

Each time, when I awoke sane again, I was shattered. I immediately recognized that the experience was mental illness, not deep spiritual truth. My spiritual radio set was broken. That has been difficult for me. But I do believe that I can have true spiritual experiences. When I think about the restored gospel and my forty-four years in the Church, I know I'm a better person for it. I look back on my life and know this for certain.

Bearing my testimony two days ago was more like the experience this summer at Girls Camp, and in contrast to my experience at our Church mental health panel and my reaction to it. Afterwards, I felt a little apprehension: did I say too much? Would parents want me as their child’s teacher? Did I reveal things too personal? But, I’m glad I did it. It was easy to do in part because I have told my story many times, week after week, as a facilitator at DBSA-Boston Newcomers support groups. I work to give the story spirit each time. It’s like a memorized poem: I recite it with feeling. Unlike a poem, I can easily include or leave out details each time.

For over a dozen years, I have dreamed of writing a full-length memoir of my experience with manic depression. As the new year begins, I intend to focus on how I can be helpful and supportive here and now. The reason for a book would be to reach out to those confused and frightened young 'Mary Johnstons' trying to make sense of temporary but real insanity. That I can do that right now.