I’ve wrestled with how much to reveal in this post but have decided that the only honest approach is the whole messed up truth. If you’d prefer not to read about mental illness (which I 100% respect) then I’d recommend stopping here.

A couple of you know that I’ve struggled with depression, but what I haven’t shared before is that I have bipolar disorder. Not the kind where my mood fluctuates frequently but the kind that requires a police escort to the psych ward when things go bad. I was hospitalized due to manic episodes six times in my 20s, for periods of time ranging from four days to four weeks. Luckily, I’ve been blessed to work with an excellent psychiatrist over the past twelve years and have finally found a balance of medications/lifestyle that has kept me relatively stable (and not requiring any trips to the funny farm) for nearly six years and counting. Aside from moderate seasonal depression most autumns and some winters, my main difficulty now is being able to differentiate between the feeling of happiness and the feeling of “too happy” which inevitably leads to mania if I don’t take extra medication for a few days.

I’m literally afraid of being happy. The most important goal I have in life is to never have another manic episode. I can’t put my family and friends through that again, and it completely derails my life when it happens. My last episode was minor by comparison (I was hospitalized within a few days of it starting), but the one before that tore apart my fledgling painting company, permanently alienated at least half of my friends in Montreal, lost me the girl of my dreams (at the time), and nearly got me arrested. I’m not saying “poor me.” I’m (mostly) grateful for this adversity because it’s made me a better person, but I want to illustrate how fucked up things can get. I have many goals and plan to accomplish all sorts of things, but nothing takes precedence over staying sane. If I accomplish nothing else meaningful in life but manage to avoid going crazy, I’d be okay with that.

All of this to say that after winning 63k in a $20 WCOOP last year, things got a little unbalanced. It took a while to develop and was very subtle at first, but something was off in my head. It wasn’t the money necessarily or any illusions about suddenly being an excellent poker player (it’s kind of embarrassing how many mistakes I made that turned out ridiculously well). I think it was the sudden lack of pressure on me. Ever since turning pro, I put a lot of pressure on myself to work hard and be very aware of my finances. Suddenly having 3x more money in the bank than ever before destroyed that drive.

Working hard at something is one of the best ways for me to maintain my mental health. It can be anything. Putting in 12 hr days at poker or past jobs, practicing writing, getting in shape, trying to master a champion in League of Legends, it literally doesn’t matter what I’m working at as long as I’m working hard. I lost sight of that by the start of October, and that matched up perfectly with the time of year that I’m most likely to get depressed.

I always take most of October off from poker because I know I won’t play well, but last year I didn’t want to come back. Not because I stopped loving poker but because I didn’t trust myself not to blow all of my money (I can be pretty self-destructive when depressed) and/or start heading down the slippery slope of happiness that leads me to the funny farm. All of my manias have started during a depression. It’s almost as if my mind detaches from reality to escape feeling bad, and stress amplifies the chances significantly. Poker isn’t usually stressful for me in a negative way, it’s typically the very definition of eustress, but any stress can be problematic at times like those.

I played a little throughout the end of November and most of December but I couldn’t take it seriously. I logged on to the forums a bunch during those months but I was so full of self-doubt that anything I wrote seemed shitty and was quickly discarded. It eventually became too painful to look at the green and white of the TPE forums. I tend to avoid most things that I enjoy when I’m depressed, as weird as that is. I instinctually seek comfort and simplicity. Anything remotely social becomes terrifying.

The past 6 months haven’t been great, but it’s child’s play compared to the despair I felt in December. There’s not much to say other than “bleh, not very much fun.” The good news is that I’ve finally turned a corner. There have been many times that I felt like I was reaching the end of being depressed over the past 3 months, but this one is different. I recognize this feeling from past episodes, but I couldn’t remember what it was like until I felt it again. Things are truly looking up. It will take a while to get back to ‘normal’ but the road ahead looks pretty sunny.

Anyway, I’ve missed the TPE squad. I don’t know why I needed to write about this here, I hope nobody minds me spilling my guts. I guess I had to write about it somewhere, and TPE felt like the most natural place. If you’ve gotten this far, I would genuinely like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know this isn’t always an easy subject to read about. Don’t be shy to ask if you want to know more about any of this, I’m not sensitive or at all prone to being offended. If I wasn’t wary of making people uncomfortable or being a Debby Downer, I wouldn’t ever purposefully avoid talking about my struggles. I’m a much happier person when I live like an open book.

I hope you’ve all been well! I look forward to reconnecting and discussing hands and all things poker.