Reprinted from HIV Plus, May/June 2008. Copyright 2008 by LPI Media Inc. All rights reserved.

By Bob Adams

Learning you're HIV-positive is upsetting enough without having another bombshell accompany the news. But that's what happened to Cliffside Park, N.J., native Stephen Puibello when he was also diagnosed with bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness. But he didn't let the dual diagnoses drag him down. Instead, he focused on improving his overall health and has dropped 80 pounds in the past eight years. The 49-year-old is in such good shape that he's completed several cycling fund-raisers, including last year's 545-mile AIDS/LifeCycle.

 

 

It has been over two months since I first learned I might be bipolar. Since then, I have emerged out of depression and its medications, and into the experience of bipolarity, and its medications. I wonder, what would have happened if I hadn't asked about bipolar disorder in that appointment with the doctor?

There are 40 reviews of Invisible Driving on Amazon.com, with an average 5 Star rating.  It's also been reviewed on many national and international Bipolar websites (links available at http://www.invisibledriving.com.)  Industry gurus Dr. E. Fuller Torrey and Dr. Jim Phelps have given it rave reviews.  In general, it is evaluated specifically as a memoir of manic depression, with an eye to how it can help those interested in learning more about the illness.  The following is, I believe, the definitive Invisible Driving review.  Not merely because it is brilliant and brilliantly written, but because it describes the totality of the book as a work of literature.  I hope you enjoy it.  It was written by London-based author, editor, and critic Justina Jase and appeared first on her blog, then on Amazon.uk.

The relationship between genius, artistic creativity, and mania has been studied at length, and it’s a deep vein. But to say that mania is a state of pure creativity is an oversimplification; rather like saying an erupting volcano is a good source of energy. There is truth to the statement, but who among us can control a volcano? When I was writing Invisible Driving, my memoir of manic depression (http://www.invisibledriving.com) (Amazon.com) I had to reconstruct my manic episodes with great care. In doing so, two things became obvious. The first was that my creative energies were at their highest, I existed in a state of constant, unfettered creativity. The other was that creativity was far beyond my grasp, it was controlling me, in a sense, my new persona was the greatest single product of my uncontrolled creativity – I was a fabulous fiction. In hindsight I understood that, while the sensation of unbridled creativity was seductive, it could never qualify as art, since art is the result of a careful balance between creativity and control. In mania, there was no control.

Of all the intangibles inherent in mania, the one I knew would be most challenging to convey was the sense of slipping into an alternate reality, a parallel universe. My city was the same; I looked the same, but absolutely everything was essentially changed. This was a world with different rules, entirely different emotions, and a foreign approach to life itself. I chewed through experience like a hungry dog. If ever there were a case of “perception being reality,” this was it. The following is excerpted from the chapter of Invisible Driving called “Steps.” Invisible Driving by Alistair McHarg is available from Amazon.com. http//www.invisibledriving.com)

Back at home with a brain that boiled like a cauldron of Louisiana gumbo. What to, what to, what to do? Zelda bubbled up to the surface. Used to work together at an agency, still spoke now and again. Liked to feed me freelance. Didn’t see her much, used the phone. Had always been a chemistry between us which I’d been very careful to discourage. Married chicks had always been off limits, police barricade, don’t cross. And if that were not sufficiently sufficient, and it were, she was moody, spoiled, and unpredictable. Cheese not squarely on the cracker. But to quote the redoubtable Lord Buckley, “If you get to it, and you cannot do it, there you jolly well are, aren’t you?” Which is another way of saying, I was looking at all career options, full-time freelance, free time full-lance, ad copywriting was a favorite. Half a dozen thoroughbred accounts in the barn and I could be completely independent. Fuck the corporate world and how they did me, wouldn’t treat a stepchild like that, but like they always say, he who laughs last, laughs flaff flaff flaff flaff flaff. With projects pouring in from Zelda, and all the other angels I would meet, prosperity was unavoidable.

A Manic episode can elevate instantly. One night I was washing the china, the next night I was China. For months after I was desperately racing. Going nowhere. Going off. My mind glowed like a rocket, wildly churning out ideas. The ideas were totally unconnected, or, at best, hinged on a sliver of wordplay. At first this made me feel powerful, it’s unbelievably entertaining. After a while, it was like having a demented television set in my brain that I couldn’t turn off.