"Parachute: A device for slowing the descent of a person or object through the air that consists of a fabric canopy beneath which the person or object is suspended."
By now, most university students reading this are veterans of fall semester enrollment and have just recently returned to campus for spring semester. If you're one of those approximate 18.5 million students and you also happen to be bipolar, consider these three simple questions: During fall semester, 1) how did you do academically, 2) how well did you manage the social scene (plus the alcohol and drugs that came along with it), and 3) did you encounter any bipolar instability which impacted your performance?
If your answer to #3 was no, and if you've sustained your stability for a while, then consider yourself fortunate. But if your stability was upended by university lifestyle stresses and your academics were more challenging than you're used to then consider this to be somewhat par for the course. Additionally, if you haven't already done so, you may find that over the course of this semester you'll have to pull the ripcord on one or more of your academic parachutes.
"Academic Parachutes?"
Your academic parachutes: those administrative processes that you can utilize for assistance when your poor academic performance is a function of things beyond your control. I'm referring here to things such as incomplete grades, late course drops, medical withdrawals, flexible attendance requirements and even flexible work submission deadlines. These various parachutes are usually activated through the assistance of an academic dean.
The fact is, academic stress and the variability inherent to university lifestyles can be a volatile mix for those with bipolar disorder. When this mix contributes to unstable mood, excessive energy and inconsistent sleep, then it's not uncommon that your academic performance also takes a hit. That said, it's important to acknowledge that students with bipolar disorder are far from being incapable. In fact, often they're often just the opposite, displaying sparks of genius and astonishing creative potential.
The problem is that the good stuff doesn't always remain good. Hypomania erodes sound judgment and effective productivity. Mania robs you of your sense of control. Depression makes you feel like a sloth. And the bipolar roller coaster of change can perpetually keep you off balance.
What do you do when your dreams of getting into med school are marred by a D in Chemistry; or worse, you're faced with a whole semester of inadequate grades? The answer is simple: you meet with your academic dean and discuss options of a late course drop or a medical withdrawal.
A dropped course postponed until you're more up to the task, or a medical withdrawal allowing you to take time out and get back on track, are all in the service of helping you towards graduation and whatever lies beyond. When you're in the midst of the difficulties that lead you to consider these options your situation may feel catastrophic; like you've screwed up big time.
But they're not and you haven't. The real struggle is that your unrealistic expectations are getting in your way.
Let's look at the same issue through a different set of lenses: If you're taking a dance class and you break a leg, you'll probably consider it appropriate to drop the course. If its final exam week and you've got the flu with 103º temperature you'll probably speak with your professors and make arrangements to take your exams once you regain your health. And in both instances you probably won't beat yourself up for your medical vulnerabilities. It happens to everyone at one time or another.
So why should your struggle with bipolar instability be any different?
Well, It shouldn't; but it usually is.
You see, students with bipolar disorder often harbor deep feelings of shame and embarrassment. These feeling sit at the core of self-esteem and reflect the feeling that your diagnosis is the medical model equivalent of "character flaw," "lack of discipline," "laziness" or "weakness." Essentially your recurrent variability and inconsistent performance leads you to feel like you don't have what it takes. Truth is... you don't all of the time. Sometimes you do falter. But so too did Mark Twain, Virginia Wolf, Ludwig van Beethoven, Francis Ford Coppala, Kay Redfield Jamison, Robert Downey Jr. and Ernest Hemingway (just to name a few).
Bipolar Disorder is not a condition that comes with an easy access volume control knob, at least not one you can adjust simply through volition alone. It can take you many years of experience and maturation before you become really adept with volume control. And even then, sometimes things will get loud despite your best efforts. Your real work doesn't entail noise modulation or even locating the off switch. It has much more to do with compassion and self-acceptance.
Be kind to yourself. Be forgiving. Understand your occasional limitations and know they are not the whole story.Your academic parachutes are there for a reason. They can prevent a crash. They can help you land on your feet. Use them as needed and know that you're not coping out.
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Russ Federman is Director of Counseling and Psychological Services at the University of Virginia. He is also co-author of Facing Bipolar: The Young Adult's Guide to Dealing with Bipolar Disorder (New Harbinger Publications), see www.BipolarYoungAdult.com
