Me and my mania.


Bipolar disorder means waking up not knowing whether Tigger or Eeyore will be making your decisions for you.


~Unknown

Mania.  It really is the best feeling ever, there is nothing like it. It can last for hours, days, weeks or even months.  I feel happy, genuinely happy, an emotion that I don’t feel often. I am full of energy, I am getting stuff done. I am focused, yet easily distracted (Squirrel!). Hence why I have been writing this post for three days.  I spend too much money (So much shopping!), and not enough sleep (Thank you 4:30 am!). I also often get tattoos or piercings. Sometimes these decisions are great, other times not so much. Luckily, this time, my promiscuity is in check… for now.  The three keys to my mania, sex, spending, and pain.

I talk to fast and often stumble over my words because my mouth cannot keep up with my brain and all its ideas.  These ideas, of course, are the best ideas ever. All of them, and they all need to be done right now. Without plan and without haste.  In reality though, they are usually not great and I have to deal with the fall out afterwards.

I can’t sit still.  I am constantly tapping my foot, clicking my pen, basically driving everyone around me crazy.  To me, it’s normal, and it feels good. Everything feels good, and if it doesn’t, I search harder for the things that do.  The choices I make, they are usually out of character. It is like I am two people at times. The fun one who does what she wants, and the depressed one that is drowning in emotions.  Luckily, manic episodes only come every so often, and I have not had a one this intense since July.

July was a mess, no good came from July.  I was completely manic through the entire death of my grandfather.  There were no tears, there was no feelings. I was bouncy, and helpfully, but with no emotion on the inside.  I am still trying to grieve and it is a difficult process. So many things happened over the summer that when the inevitable crash happened, I ended up in the hospital.  A first for me.

The worst part of a manic episode is knowing that it won’t last forever.  Knowing that the crash is coming, the great fall to depression. It hurts, sometimes for a very long time.  I find myself praying that my mania will last. Like now, I just want it to last through Christmas, I can’t crash for Christmas.  I have way too much to do, people are depending on me.

I have often said that the hardest part of having bipolar disorder is that I never know if I am really happy or not.  Am I having a good day, or or am I getting elevated. Once it starts, there is nothing I can do. I can try to be aware, I can try to make little changes to keep myself in check, but it is often useless.  When I am manic, I just don’t care. I do what I want, when I want to with no regrets. Ever.

Bipolar disorder is like living on a roller coaster.  Sometimes you are up, sometimes you are down, occasionally you are at baseline.  All I can do is use my CBT & DBT skills the best I can to limit the damage. However, if given the option, I don’t think I would change a thing.  Yea, it’s really hard, but it is apart of me. It makes me who I am. I am creative, spastic, and unique. I look at the world differently than most people.  I am badass because of everything I have been through. And with everything that I have been through, I am still standing. The best part? There is no one in the world like me, and that is a great feeling.

I have bipolar disorder, it does not have me.

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