For some reason, I always used to say this to myself when I would cry. Through college, through the awful transition into real life, through everything. I’d lay on my mattress, hold myself tight, and repeat the same phrase, “I want to go home.”
Only eventually, home wasn’t any longer a place where I wanted to be.
I held onto the phrase, and now I feel it come back to me again, only I don’t know what or where is home. Sometimes I think the psych ward is home. Sometimes I think under the covers on my own bed is home. Sometimes I think home doesn’t exist at all.
If there was a home, it would be a place where this bipolar madness wouldn’t get at me. Where I’d be safe from its ups and downs, its tug and pull, its POS grip on me.
Sometimes I’m manic. Sometimes I’m depressed. But never am I home.
Oh, crap. There it goes. I just lost it.
Me: I know, but it’s really hard sometimes because I really expect perfection from myself, and I am in reality so far off of base that I can’t even describe it.
Me: Come on, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.
Me: I know, I know.
Me: If you were talking to a friend, would you place demands on them the way you do to yourself? Talk to yourself like a friend would.
Me: I know, but all that positive self-talk b.s. is just that. B.S.
Me: No, it’s not. Have you ever tried it? Have you ever honestly tried it?
Me: …uh, no.
Me: Okay, then.
Me: I make mistakes. I make mistakes, and that’s okay.
Me: You’re right; it IS okay.
It’s 5:39 am.
Time to Leave for Work and Not Be Late: 6:00
Things I Have Done So Far To Facilitate Leaving: none.
Went to the psych on Monday. Said I’m hypomanic. Trying hard to just ride the wave, but honestly, it’s been difficult. I’ve wanted to write the past couple of days to let you know how it’s been going, but I haven’t had a chance due to the multiple distractions I experience per each and every minute of my waking life.
- “Ohh! I’m going to write a letter to my former friend from high school who doesn’t even remember that I exist!”
– “Oooh! Let’s play Grand Theft Auto and ride the boat all the way out to sea!”
- “Oh! Let’s talk to this stranger and ask them 20 questions about their past! We’ll just see where it goes!”
- “Oh, I know! We can run-play-smash-eat-dance-shake-jump-beatbox!”
It’s been distracting, being in this mind of mine.
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- Euphoria √
- Inflated self-esteem √
- Poor judgment
- Rapid speech √
- Racing thoughts √
- Aggressive behavior √
- Agitation or irritation √
- Increased physical activity
- Risky behavior
- Spending sprees or unwise financial choices
- Increased drive to perform or achieve goals
- Increased sex drive √
- Decreased need for sleep √
- Easily distracted √
- Careless or dangerous use of drugs or alcohol
- Frequent absences from work or school
- Delusions or a break from reality (psychosis)
- Poor performance at work or school
So here’s the deal…me waking up at 3 am and thinking of all these projects I want to do – it’s not on the Typical Me wavelength. Me rambling to people and constantly having the need/urge to talk to others (especially strangers on the sidewalk) is my warning sign. Increased libido: (sadly) never happens unless I’m headed toward mania.
So all of this is very uncomfortable for me. I’m seeing my psychiatrist on Monday (thank goodness) and I’m hoping she can help me if I point to all of these instances. I know me. I know me more than she. So if I just tell her, “Look, this is happening. We need to do something about it” then I’m hoping she will hear me.
Getting only four hours of sleep per night no matter how hard I try to sleep in, it’s not good for a fellah’.
Mania is embarassing, just to let ya’ll know. You say and do things that you wouldn’t normally do under normal circumstances, and then when you come out of it, you think back to all the things that were said and done and you feel like a jackass.
This whole “I’m-going-to-change-my-lifestyle” thing IS a real part of me. It IS something I am yearning to do – but I have a sneaking suspicion that my enthusiasm is probably related to what I suspect is me on the verge of mania. I just hope it’s not a full-blown manic episode, and it can be stopped in time.
And hey, don’t get me wrong. I love mania just as much as the next guy. But I also am all too familiar with the consequences, and they ain’t pretty. So, again, seeing the doctor late in the day on Monday. I’m going to have to write all this down so that I can explain to her exactly what is happening without getting lost or stuck in the moment and forget everything I was going to say during my short time with her.
This post seems like a good place to start.
P.s. I did not smoke any cigarettes yesterday. I’m feeling I might throw in the towel today, though. Deep breaths, deep breaths…