For years I used exercise as a denial mechanism. There is no way I could have a drinking “problem” if I got up in the morning and swim-bike-run like this. The worse my drinking, the more I swam, biked and ran. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.
Exercise also provided an outlet for my mania. On those days when my mania flared, I felt like a racehorse in the gate – eyes wide, hooves pounding at the dirt. Open that gate baby and I will kick your ass. I once ran the last six miles of a marathon without my shoes because my shoes were killing me and I was not about to stop.
My alcoholism and bipolar just love each other. They are evil little twins. When I put one to bed the other one sneaks in and wakes up the other. I have been sober almost 13 years and the mania is still banging on the door. My medications have been an incredible help in taming the beast and lifting the depression.
Full story at; Alcoholism and Bipolar: My Evil Little Twins | Depression on My Mind.
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