Open Letter to Amy and Britney

Girls, take a seat a listen. Who am I? Something of an authority on being Bipolar, that's who. I have some learnin' to share with you that I know will help, if you'll just pay attention.

A Bipolar celebrity is a little redundant, since most BPD sufferers feel like the star of the show anyway. Not to mention that a staggering number of artists, musicians, authors, and other celebrities are Bipolar. Something about creativity and the mysterious region of the brain from whence BPD sprouts, but that's for the eggheads to work out.

Me, I was diagnosed back in 2002, in the midst of spectacularly awful breakdown. What you feel when you are diagnosed is usually a heady mix of rage, shame, paranoia and bitter disappointment, often resulting in substance abuse. Which, as you know, makes things exponentially worse.

Try not to dwell on the fact that something is wrong with you. Instead, endeavor to do something about it. Surrender to the help from family and doctors who still love you, even though you are killing them with your bullshit. Quietly disassociate from those people trying to control and exploit you. Listen, I've been there. This is hard to do. Your life does actually depend on you getting rid of these people, though. Focus on the people who matter: your family (and Britney, your babies).

The irony of trading illegal drugs for far more dangerous legal ones rankles, but, Alice, the one makes you sick and the other makes you well. Eventually!

Finding the therapy that works best for you takes time and a willingness on your part to be proactive in your health. Lithium works best for BPD. When you first start Lithium treatment, you will feel spacey and emotionally dull. You will likely gain weight. You'll suffer alternating constipation and diarrhea. Your teeth will rot (for you, Amy, perhaps not an issue). You will go to the doctor's office a lot, to have your blood levels checked and for various complaints.

But you begin to think clearer than you ever have before. Your true personality — not that crazy slut addict who is currently trying to kill you, she's not real — emerges; talent, charm, sanity intact. You see, you are diseased right now, as if you were running around with oozing scabs all over your body that only you can see.

GET HELP. The only thing that will change is the paparazzi, who will quickly grow bored of your healthy lifestyle and quiet success. Oh, and a little thing called happiness. Not the fleeting, thrill-seeking happiness, rather the effortless, permanent kind.

GET HELP. Start with a psychiatrist and a proper Med Eval. Comply with your treatment. When you can, add cognitive behavior therapist with experience with Bipolar patients. Skip the "licensed counselors", they are not prepared for your needs. Exercise, dance, sing, take classes in things that interest you, travel, spend time with your family, repairing those burnt bridges. Stay clear of your old party friends.

FYI, I lived this (minus the illegal drugs) and came out of it better than ever. I'm four years stable and get the "meh" treatment from my psychiatrist and therapist. I comply with almost everything they tell me to do (there was this one psych doc who was a little too eager to put me on experimental drugs, he was fired) and do what I can to mitigate the side effects of Lithium.

My bridges are completely repaired and fortified. I feel amazing. Now, I don't have talent like you two girls, but I have my little journalism career and I'm enjoying enough success to occasionally get VIP treatment. That suits me. If you take my advice your comebacks will make history. Not infamy, history.

Here's what you should do right now: have a flunky go out and buy you a copy of An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison. Take a highlighter pen and read the book. When something Kay writes connects with your addled brain, highlight it. Take that book with you to your psych/therapist and show off the neon pages.

I still have that book and I read it from time to time, to remind me of the brave steps I took to save myself. Amy, Britney, I'm praying for you. Call or write me anytime, just to talk.

This One Bears Repeating

I don't know how to re-post old diatribes so you're going to have to click on the title to see what I'm talking about.

Britney, that is.

If I may vent for a moment: I am so motherfucking glad I'm not a celebrity and wasn't hounded by paparazzi night and day, everywhere I went, when I had my breakdown. Whatever her relationship with her kids, the trauma of having a celebrity mom has to harder on them than having a bipolar mom.

I wish Britney had someone she could trust, someone she could rely on to recognize when she's not herself and spinning out of control. Someone who's opinion she cares about, someone who hasn't already let her down.

Like Britney, I had people around more than willing to exploit my condition. It's likely she distrusts everyone she knows right now and feels desperate, lonely and hurt. Hopefully , like me, Britney will have a moment of clarity long enough to surrender to the help she needs.

Britney at the VMAs

I actually had better things to do (read: watch football,drink beer and play NTN trivia)than watch some stupid MTV awards show. All over the interwebs this morning is vicious criticism of Britney Spears — one even has her on "suicide watch".

Watch the video on youtube or practically any website in existence and you'll see a bedraggled and plumper (though by no means as fat as she's being called by so many other pots and kettles) Britney, looking absolutely terrified and messing up her dancing and singing so badly it hurts to watch.

Poor kid, her life is spinning out of control and there doesn't appear to be anyone around her with a steadying influence. If Madonna could spare some time from adopting African orphans and doing whatever it is she does to make her arms look so spooky, she would be an excellent mentor for the poor Miss Spears. Exactly what the stale pop tart needs.

I can see it now: Madonna, taking Britney under her taut wing, putting the Cheetoh-lover on a macrobiotic diet and whipping her into shape in dance class and recording studio. Move Britney and her babies to London to give the girl a break from the paparazzi and Perez Hilton. Let her hair grow out — ditch the weaves. Take a cue from Rihanna and class up the outfits a little. If Kabbalah helps, fine, but get your head right, girl.

After a proper detox and style makeover, Britney ought to spend some time with the gays. STAY AWAY FROM THE CHAVS!

And then and only then can Britney stage a comeback.