10 minutes in my manic brain

I’m cycling into mania. I live with bipolar disorder. I want to do all the things. I don’t want to sleep. I have a million FABULOUS ideas. Why doesn’t everyone see how fabulous my ideas are and be part of them? Wait, if I recognize it does that mean it’s not really mania? What if I’m just going crazy?  I should make presents for everyone. Right now. At 1:45 am. No, I should clean. No, I should write everyone letters about how much I love them. I should record tutorials. I should write blogs. I should write soldiers. I should write more prisoners. Imagine their lives. Imagine the many who have lost or are losing hope. The many who are wrongfully convicted. The many who made an awful decision but who are truly remorseful. Those who will get out of prison after many years not at all knowing the strange new world they’re coming into. What is wrong with our society? I should get a law degree so I can help people. That’s way too much school and I have a hard time with boundaries. That won’t work. A paralegal degree? Yes, I should enroll RIGHT NOW. Oh, I bet my niece would love this present! I guess I understand why veterans don’t like being told “Thank you for your service”. Some feel like they didn’t join to be of service, if we knew what they were thinking at the time we wouldn’t be thanking them, that we have no idea what it truly means to serve. But for civilians they mean it. They appreciate those who made sacrifices many of us will never know or understand. They’re hoping to make up for a generation that spit on those coming home from war.  Should we say, “I’m glad you came home”? Thank you for your sacrifices? We all understand sacrifices although not at the level as our veterans. I should go visit the veterans’ home tomorrow. I should make it a habit. I should make them a postcard album. But I’d have to tell people not to write “Thank you for your service”.  Maybe there are lonely veterans who don’t really have anyone and I could brighten their days and help them feel loved and hopeful.

What’s that taste in my mouth? Orange juice shouldn’t leave a metallic taste. Yuck. I want coffee. Coffee won’t help me sleep. Not sleeping makes the mania more pronounced and sometimes increases the cycling of depression/mania. I should read something inspirational. I can’t sit still and focus that long right now. I wonder if Aaron is really happy. I don’t think this is the relationship he envisioned when we me, when he proposed, when he married me. But then I was honest, too honest, when we first met and he knew what he was getting into. Do my stepkids hate me? Past and present stepkids. Although they’re all mine. They’ll all always be mine. All 7 of them. I’ll be just a phone call, a text, away. I’ve made so many mistakes. Do they know how much I love them? Do they know I always just wanted the best for them? Do all my children know this? My sister-in-law and brother have done such an amazing job being parents. They’re close with their kids, they play with them, laugh with them, cry with them, discipline and set expectations with them. I’ve made so many bad decisions in my life. Maybe some people are right. I’m a toxic person, I hurt people, I’m too negative, I’m really selfish but I convince people I’m not, I take advantage of people… No, no I’m not. I’ve helped so many people, been there for people, and I always truly want to help and make things better. Every time someone mentions a worry, a problem, to me my mind and heart instantly go into fix it mode. I have to work hard to simmer it down because it drains me and I give too much to stay healthy myself…

This is about 10 minutes in my brain and it's not all of it. And I think you’re right there with me. So I say things or ask questions that seem really random. But they make total sense in my brain and I can’t understand why you’re so slow at catching on.

Thank you for being patient with me, for being my friend after I make grandiose plans and then fall of the face of the earth for a bit. This is why you might get a bazillion texts in a row from me and then nothing for days/weeks/months. And those texts will probably be completely random. 

Petrified

Some mornings, too many mornings, I wake up warm and cozy with my fleece sheets pulled up to my chin. And I feel petrified - emotionally and physically. I feel I can't possibly get myself out of bed for yet another day. My body feels made of stone.The simple acts of shower, make-up, hair, and finding something to wear seem like too much. I curl into a ball thinking about another day behind a computer, wearing headphones to help limit the noise that sets off my anxiety, forcing myself to interact with people for 8 hours, trying not to be irritated by everything around me. The argument with myself begins. Of course I can do this. I can get out of my bed and get the day going. I have a good life. Friends who care, people who love me, a good paying job for a great family friendly company. And yet moving - getting out of my bed - takes so much out of me I wonder what I'll have left for the rest of the day. If it's a good day, there's no pain anywhere. My joints don't hurt. My shoulder doesn't ache. If it's a really good day, once I get myself moving the day doesn't take quite as much energy and I can have a "normal" day.

I suffer from bipolar disorder. For me, the manias are rare but do happen. The depression is frequent. I've tried most medications and had various issues with the majority of them. I can't "snap out of it", as much as I'd like to do just that. I'd love to wake up and say, "Today I won't be depressed or anxious. Today I won't be so tired and achy that a day at work takes everything out of me." In fact I do wake up and say those things. But sometimes it's really not about "mind over matter".

This is my life. Some people can't handle it: the ups and downs and never being quite sure where I'll be at next, the overreactions, the irritability. I can't say I blame them. For those who have managed to stick around, I say thank you. It is because of you I'm still here and making it through another day.

6/2/14 Update:
Turns out I'm not bipolar. I suffer from depression. Although apparently note severe enough for my insurance to pay 50% of my medical bills. It's considered mild, so they pay 30%. Whatever, right? Anyhow, the last two psychiatrists decided I have some anxiety and depression, at times impulse control, but not bipolar disorder. I'm also what's called a Highly Sensitive Person. It explains a lot, actually. But so far knowing that isn't making the fact that I've spent most of the last two days hiding in my room wishing the world would just BE QUIET any easier to deal with. At least now I know I'm not crazy or just a bitch...

Being Bipolar Sucks Big Hairy Balls

I think the title pretty much sums up how I feel about being affected by this disorder. Bipolar, or manic-depressive, disorder for me is like living life on a constant roller coaster. I love roller coasters, don't get me wrong, but never being able to get off the ride would seriously diminish my enjoyment!

Sometimes I go through phases where I think the diagnosis was wrong. What I really have is severe social anxiety and depression. This is easy to believe for awhile because my depressive episodes have been much more frequent and severe than my manic ones. It gives me an excuse to insist that I can take an anti-depressant alone.

Welcome to the Jungle: Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Bipolar but Were Too Freaked Out to Ask is a great book, a fairly easy read, for those suffering and for their loved ones. One of the things the the author talks about is our tendency to believe we aren't bipolar and then go off meds. 

Last week was a low point in my life, although I didn't think so at the time. I was energetic and ready to take on new things and meet new people. I wasn't sleeping.  Classic symptom, right? On my own and out-of-town, I drank too much and quickly spiraled out of control.  If this blog were anonymous, I'd share more details. Because I honestly believe that sharing details can help others who have also suffered.   But this blog isn't anonymous and there are those who would use it against me in a variety of ways, and it could also hurt others. So we'll have to suffice it to say that the week ended with me being embarrassed and ashamed and realizing that along with being bipolar I suffer from an addiction that I can't control on my own right now.  I realized that I have no clue how to set boundaries or have healthy relationships. I also managed to hurt someone very deeply and not for the first time. I also hurt a new friend and I'm sorry she had to see that very unattractive side of me. 

So from here I'm moving forward and making some changes. Establishing bottom lines in relation to addiction. Attending meetings, seeing my counselor, going back to my psychiatrist. Simplifying my life a bit and saying "goodbye" to some and "I hope you'll be around when I'm healthy but I don't expect you to wait for that" to others. Many of the relationships I have in my life right now are unhealthy and lack boundaries. There are those in my life I love but I know I can't be with - maybe just temporarily or maybe more permanently. I need to distinguish between love, dependency and addiction to people.

There's so little about me that I like right now. I need to fix that so I can truly love and like others. Some of my readers know I've said similar things in the past but didn't actually make the changes. I've started the changes already, and it's so very hard to stay strong and do what I know in my heart and in my head are the right steps even though they may cause some even more pain in the short term. I hope that my friends will help hold me accountable. Because one of my major problems is that I surround myself with people who help justify my poor decisions and actions.  Wanna help be my accountability partners? Give me your contact information and I'll let you know how you can help.  Let me know why you want to help.

Loving Someone with Bipolar Disorder: Understanding & Helping Your Partner, another book I found very helpful. This is one I think needs to be revisited every few years. It helps identify triggers.

Be sure to check out Band Back Together for more resources and to read the stories of others (or share your own story).

Thank you to the many of you who have offered me positive comments and support!