Read time: 8 min.

I was diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder almost a decade and a half ago during my freshman year of college. Some tiring stressors since the Fourth of July weekend had me wondering if I was careening toward a depressive phase again, which meant it was time to whip out the coping mechanisms! One of my favorites is pretty ridiculous: I blurt out the name of a neighborhood in a stupid voice every time I speed past.

This coping mechanism makes me sound crazier than the bipolar does, but let’s be honest: if you drove past a neighborhood called NIOIO, wouldn’t you be compelled to shout its name out in silly voice too? I sure do, in voices based on Ed Wynn as the Mad Hatter and Terry-Thomas from School for Scoundrels. Lately, I’ve been woodshedding “Dying Robot Death Rattle.” I’m constantly developing new ways to yell out the neighborhood’s name on my commute. Although it sounds cringey, I don’t think my exuberant shouts are much different than channeling your inner Whitney and belting out the Top 40 from 1986.

I’ve done my share of that, but my present subject matter, NIOIO Estates, sits on State Road 32 between Yorktown and Daleville, a stretch of road that’s basically my backyard. I’ve driven down it thirteen hundred times in the past ten years! Despite my fixation with the addition and how often I pass the place, the word “NIOIO” means nothing to me. I don’t know how to say its name, which syllables to emphasize, or whether the vowels are short or long. It’s a nonsense word that’s fun to yell, and I usually pronounce it like “NEE-oYEEEEEEEEE-oh” with all of Doodlebob’s manic furor.

NIOIO Estates sits on land once owned by Dr. Oral A. Tucker, a World War I veteran who practiced dentistry medicine in Daleville for fifty-four years¹. Tucker and his wife Lillian called the place Nioio Farm² and even hosted high school cross-country meets there in the early 1960s³. The neighborhood was platted in phases starting in 1964, just after Tucker’s death at seventy-seven. 

Unfortunately, my research hasn’t shed any light on why the Tuckers chose to call their farm Nioio. I imagine it had some Native American influence based on the neighborhood’s street names, Council and Arrow. The closest Indian settlement was near Priest Ford Road, though- nearly two miles northeast of the Tucker property. There, it’s thought that a small group of Lenape lived in a community later known as Owenachki or Hockinpomsga’s Village⁴.

Regardless of a connection to the area’s native inhabitants, NIOIO Estates seems like a quiet and pleasant neighborhood. It’s typical of many that date from the sixties, with mature trees and generous lawns. NIOIO Estates is a place I wouldn’t mind living as long as there weren’t any obnoxious lunatics whizzing past and yelling out its name! Nevertheless, here’s why I do it:

1. Distractions are good

Living with Bipolar II disorder for the past fifteen years forced me to learn a couple lessons. One of the most crucial tidbits I’ve picked up is that distractions are appropriate coping mechanisms. The Cornell University Research Program on Self-Injury and Recovery agrees⁵. If I’m depressed, yelling “NEE-oYEEEEEEEEE-oh!” twice every couple of days as I pass NIOIO Estates forces me to distract myself from the depths for a few seconds. If I’m normal or manic, blurting it out becomes a weird celebration of life. That’s important too!

2. It’s important to ground yourself

It’s ironic that the haze of depression feels a little like a commute spent on the phone where I set out, take a call, and wind up somewhere else without any recollection of how I got there. One of the best techniques I’ve learned to undo that haze is grounding. It’s a quick process of using your senses to reconnect with your body that sounds simple, but it takes a lot of effort to restore your connection to reality.

Yelling out “NEE-oYEEEEEEEEE-oh” grounds me because it forces me to see surroundings like the curve in the highway, the colonial house on the hill, and the lanterns just visible inside the neighborhood’s flower beds. Analysis confirms it- in Seeking Safety, Lisa M. Najavits posits that grounding comprises three types of circumstances- mental, physical, and soothing⁶. The mental image I paint of the places as I holler satisfies the mental aspect, while grabbing the steering wheel tight as I round the curve covers the physical. Affording myself the chance to yell out a nonsense word satisfies the soothing part. NIOIO has a bizarre name. It pleases me to recognize it. It’s a win-win-win!

My NIOIO method only consists of two lessons so far, but I hope to learn more over time. It’s proven helpful in navigating some major depressive episodes when I’ve combined it with talk therapy, EMDR, medication, and other stuff. Yes, it might be obnoxious and juvenile, but I don’t venture to NIOIO just to shout it out to the heavens; I only yelp it out as I drive past. I’ll keep doing it until the cops set up a roadblock or until an aggravated passenger shifts my car into reverse mid-yelp!

The NIOIO thing works for me in concert with the other efforts I mentioned, but everyone deals with their issues and traumas differently. I don’t profess to be a guru, a prophet, or a psychiatrist. I identify as a blogger who likes to write about history! In fact, it’s taken about a week to complete this post because I kept getting sidetracked by more interesting things to discuss like schoolhouses, courthouses, and some flowing wells I haven’t posted about yet.

Despite my own preferences, I’ve been rewarded with feedback that makes me think occasional dives into my mental health struggles might not be that bad. I’d rather focus on history, but some study and mindfulness led me to think the bipolar phase I thought I was on the cusp of wasn’t anything more than an exhausted response to new stressors. I’m glad to have made that connection. I’ll surpass them soon enough.

I take a leap every time I write about my issues here. I feel a heavy burden to make sure I express myself in a way that respects both others with mental health issues and the people who frequent this place to read about our shared interests. I’m not here to reset any narratives about mental illness, but I think posts like this cover both my love of history and the mental health stuff.

It’s Sunday, so there will be no “”NEE-oYEEEEEEEEE-oh” for me today. I’ll write about a schoolhouse in Madison County tomorrow morning, and I’m sure I’ll have already driven past and used my NIOIO method by the time you read it!

Sources Cited
1 Tucker Rites To Be Monday (1963, June 29). The Muncie Evening Press. p. 7.
2 Daleville (1956, August 28). The Muncie Evening Press. p. 12.
3 Runners Needed (1966, September 15). The Muncie Star. p. 30.
4 Flook, C. (2019). Lost Towns of Delaware County, Indiana. The History Press [Charleston]. book.
5 Kilburn, E. & Whitlock, J.L. (2009). Distraction techniques and alternative coping strategies. The Fact Sheet Series, Cornell Research Program on Self-Injury and Recovery. Cornell University. Ithaca, NY. book.
6 Najavits, Lisa M. (2002). Seeking safety : a treatment manual for PTSD and substance abuse. New York. Guilford Press. book.