{"id":6871,"date":"2012-12-13T06:00:46","date_gmt":"2012-12-13T11:00:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/beyondblue\/?p=6871"},"modified":"2012-12-13T13:04:46","modified_gmt":"2012-12-13T18:04:46","slug":"the-12-bipolar-days-of-christmas-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/beyondblue\/2012\/12\/the-12-bipolar-days-of-christmas-2.html","title":{"rendered":"The 12 Bipolar Days of Christmas"},"content":{"rendered":"

It’s that time of year again!!! Ready to hear it again???<\/em><\/p>\n

DISCLAIMER: I am no Barbara Streisand. I’ve never taken a singing lesson in my life. Not one.The inspiration for this song came two weeks before Thanksgiving when I received a call from my doctor: we had better get together a plan for lowering my cholesterol. <\/p>\n

Yeah. <\/p>\n

Sure. <\/p>\n

Getting to it … right after I fix my pituitary tumor, abnormal aortic valve, bipolar brain, and facial fungus.My high cholesterol is not a new issue. Somewhere around the time David was conceived I found out that my cholesterol scores were higher than my verbal SATs. But for the last six years I didn’t do anything about it because (honest confession coming up here) many of those days I was so depressed that I really wanted to be with God in his mansion upstairs. Dropping dead of a heart attack sounded like a great alternative to suicide. It’s easier, cheaper, much more socially acceptable, and involved stuffing myself with brie cheese and Eggs Florentine. Sign me up.<\/p>\n

Then something inconvenient happened. As I gradually began to fix all my broken parts (pituitary tumor, bipolar brain, facial fungus, abnormal heart) I started to wake up excited. <\/p>\n

About life. <\/p>\n

I wanted to try and stick around for David’s high school graduation and Katherine’s Little Mermaid wedding and maybe, just maybe, for the birth of grandchildren.<\/p>\n

As a jogged around the Naval Academy the morning I got my SAT scores, I mean cholesterol count, I reflected on all the parts of my mental-health program–prayer, therapy, fish oil, medication, family support, sobriety, vitamins, yoga (even though I hate it), guardian angels–and it sounded like the lyrics to a song, “The 12 Days of Christmas” or something.<\/p>\n

Yes, “The 12 Days of Christmas”! <\/p>\n

With sweat dripping down my face, I pulled out a sheet of paper from my pocket and a pen (I run with those in case something like this happens) and madly scribbled down the words as if I were Moses taking down the Ten Commandments. <\/p>\n

So, pretend that I have just invited you into my home, poured you a glass of Merlot (if you’re not a recovering alcoholic), and made you endure a live version of “American Idiot.” <\/p>\n

With a holiday twist.<\/p>\n

The 12 Bipolar Days of Christmas<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n