An Elated State of Mind: Memoir of a Bipolar Person

By CHOW EE-TAN

Chow Ee-Tan had her first onset of bipolar syndrome at 15. From then on, she had walked through peaks and valleys due to her mood swings, extraordinary and even bizarre experiences that she otherwise woud not have encountered: from dropping out of school to false and failed romances to twice-warded in psychiatric hospitals.

 

Her first book `An Elated State of Mind: Memoir of a Bipolar Person' is written with brutal honesty and forthrightness, as Ee-Tan shares her life journey as a bipolar person – chronicling the episodes she went through – mainly a series of elations as well as a dark depression episode. Readers may empathise with her on what she has gone through, how she felt and how she coped before she returned to a normal state of mind, cyclically.

 

But in the midst of all these trials and chaos, Ee-Tan found Jesus and had placed her trust in God. Her days had never been too bleak or hopeless despite the many hardships and heartaches he had gone through. Her faith in God has been her ankle and instrumental in helping her to eventually lead a normal life, and manage her illness with aplomb.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: CHOW EE-TAN
• Release date: Feb 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9786299886112

CHOW EE-TAN

Chow Ee-Tan was a journalist with two local English dailies before she became a freelance writer. Her portfolio ranges from a wide range of editorial works published  locally and regionally to copywriting for and content creations for corporations. "An Elated State of MindL Memoir of a Bipolar Person" is her first book that she began writing more than two decades ago to share her stormy journey of bipolar syndromes and as a testimony of God's faithfulness in her life.

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Introduction

This book writing project has been stretched across decades. It was during a time of difficult trials and strong conviction that I have decided to write this book. I started writing it in my mid-20s, when I was going through a lot of turmoils. Then, I had ‘abandoned’ it for many years until I picked it up again in a more recent time.

This is not meant to be an autobiography, for it does not tell the story of my life in a chronological and detailed manner. Rather, it is more like a memoir or a personal testimony of my ups and downs in life that I wish to share with you all – something I see as a moving and encouraging testimony of God’s faithfulness.

Looking back at my years of pain is not easy. Yet, I am convinced I have to write this book. After all, it is ultimately a beautiful story, a story of how the Lord delivered me from darkness into light, from a rough stone through pressure and pain into a bright shining precious gem.

While God has been working in my life, there is someone else who stole a bit of the limelight. He is the great deceiver, Satan, and he is real. Even before I was a Christian, Satan had haunted me constantly by tormenting me, physically and mentally. But through my walk with God, I no longer fear him.

It is simple, God already has the victory, as Jesus had died and conquered death. Satan is doomed.

It is marvellous to know that even before I knew God, He had already loved me and had a plan for me. When I finally found Jesus, I was set free and my life changed. I want to let the world know that after following Him for so many decades now and in times which I stumbled and fell, God loves an unworthy person like me and blesses me so much.

You can call this a Christian book but I have nothing to preach about. It’s merely to share the goodness of God and the miracle He has done in my life.

I promise it won’t be boring. There are the pains, the sorrows, the joys and the victories, and I will spill them all out with no shame. Parts of it may come as a shock to some of you. But if God has forgiven my sins and has restored me, I am no longer bothered with how the world may look at the old me. It’s all in the past.

Yes, it has taken me a long time to write and complete this book. Sometimes, I have even lost focus and wanted to give up but thanks be to God, whenever I strayed away too much, He would pull me back. He constantly nudged me that I needed to write on and complete this memoir.

And here is the end product. I hope it is as inspiring and encouraging as it is interesting.

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:13–14

1

Early Days Of Turmoils

Years: Birth - 1985

Mood: Normal - Very High

A Child Who Thought Too Much

I was a dreamer. In fact, my first ambition was to be an astronaut, as I often marvelled at the vast skyline and mysterious universe. I knew there must be someone out there; someone whose hands created all the stars and galaxies.

You could say that I was a fortunate girl as I was born into a ‘good, middle-upper class’ family. Both my parents were university graduates and they raised me and showered me with love and care. I was also close to my paternal grandparents whom I lived with during my childhood. My sister, my only sibling, was born when I was two-year-and-two-month old.

When I was five, we moved to a bungalow house that my dad built, in which I would live for the next twenty-three years. I shared a room with my sister, Ee-Chin, and we were the best of friends.

When I was about six or seven, I always had this fantasy and imagined myself as an elder princess, while my sister was the younger princess. I even made up games to play-pretend that we were princesses.

Later, to my delightful surprise, I discovered that we are actually ‘princesses’. We are the descendants of the first Emperor of the Sung Dynasty in China. His name was Zhao Kuangyin; and according to our family tree, I am the thirty-fifth generation of the clan. This means that I have blue blood in me, although monarchy has been non-existent in China since the downfall of the Qing Dynasty.

As a result of our roots, our extended family is non-religious. While many Malaysian Chinese are Buddhists or Taoists, we do not believe in any deities or idols. Our family only paid respects to our ancestors. Later, I learned that Chinese emperors at that time often prayed to a ‘heavenly god’ who created heaven and earth. The emperors had to shoulder the burdens of the whole nation and prayed to the ‘god’ for favours including asking for rain or sunshine.

In a corner of our dining room, there used to be an ancestors’ altar and on it were the tablets of my great-grandparents. During major festivals, my grandmother would offer incense to them. I was also taught to pray and worship, asking my great-grandparents to protect us, give our home peace as well as prosperity. I did what was expected, and I actually believed that they would protect us.

Due to my non-religious background, I was very ignorant about religions, be it Buddhism, Christianity or Islam, I only knew the bare minimum. I had never set foot in a temple, church, or mosque, except as a tourist. Whatever my grandmother practised was the so-called Chinese religion which was carried down from generation to generation. No one in my family was actually a believer in any faith.

Thinking of Death as a Child

I have always been curious. While the adults were concerned with everyday living, my wandering mind was always roaming, thinking of the true meaning of life. When I was old enough to understand, I could never get over the fact that human beings have to die. Death, it seemed, was the only certain and unavoidable thing. It was scary to me; I not only fear the eventual death of my parents, I fear even more of my own. And I was only about seven.

I have suffered from insomnia since an early age. My mind was too active and I had trouble controlling my thoughts. Once, I remember lying awake in bed at one or two in the morning, thinking of my death that would come one day. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my own existence, for I loved myself too much.

The more I thought, the more spooked I was and I ran to wake up my parents, telling them hysterically, Papa, mama, I am afraid of dying! When I die, there won’t be a Chow Ee-Tan anymore. I don’t want to die!

My parents were a bit taken aback but laughed it off. It is only natural that people live and die. In Chinese, we say: ‘Sheng (birth), Lao (aged), Bing (sick), Si (death)’. It is a natural process, my dear Mum replied patiently.

So they seemed to have accepted this fact of life without questioning it. But deep down inside, I believed there was an unsolved mystery, and I was determined to find out the real meaning of life. I didn’t believe we were only brought to this world just to die one day. Life couldn’t be so short and meaningless.

I had never doubted the existence of a god. Yet, I didn’t know who this god was, and what ‘he’ or ‘she’ or ‘it’ was like. I remember when I encountered troubles or difficulties, I would pray, and my prayer went something like that: Dear god, wherever you are, please help me to get over this…, or Oh god, I beg, help me to find my… Yes, it was only in times of anguish and despair that I would turn to this mysterious god.

Of all the festivals we have in Malaysia, my favourite has always been Christmas. I didn’t know why, but to me, Christmas is a festival filled with joy and peace and there was an element of magical enchantment to it. I loved listening to Christmas carols (although I never grasped the meaning of the lyrics), looking at the glittery decorations and marvelling at the festive joy.

It was only in my secondary school days when I entered United World College of Southeast Asia (UWCSEA) in Singapore that I learned a bit more about Christianity. I found out that Jesus was born of Mary and Joseph in a manger, and his birth was rejoiced by shepherds and even the Wise Men. The story of Christmas was like a beautiful and legendary fairy tale, though I was doubtful of its historical truth. At that time, Christmas meant something quite special to me as a festive holiday, and Jesus was just a faraway mythological figure.

The First Manic Attacks

Shortly after my twelfth birthday, I suffered from insomnia quite badly. When I didn’t get enough sleep, I became restless and tense. I remember one day I got hysterical when Dad was late coming home. He didn’t call and it was half-an-hour later than his usual time. Earlier, I read the newspaper which reported a few road accidents and murder incidents in the city. I suddenly panicked and thought that Dad could have been in danger. I was filled with fear and anxiety, worrying sick for him. When he returned, I cried in relief.

My poor parents sensed that I must be suffering from some mental anxiety and took me to a doctor friend of theirs one day after dinner. Dr. Too turned out to be an artistic poet. He calmed and soothed me by telling me the beauty of poetry. He told me that life is beautiful only because of the existence of writers and musicians. He glorified the creative careers