Is This Mania or is This Normal

I have been really struggling the last few months. I have been highly irritable, exhausted, unable to do simple things at home. I have been negative, hopeless, and stressed to the tenth degree. It has been extremely hard to function long enough to make it through the work day. 

Then I would collapse, stare at the tv that was turned off, and I felt like it would never pass. I could not shower, I could not make a meal, and it was extremely difficult to interact. My anxiety was beyond the ceiling. I was disassociating from my body and my words. When I would speak I would hear every word as an outsider. I was not in my body. 

I was given more medication which I did not take. I was sick of the pills. I was sick of being bipolar. I was sick of the weird hollow feeling like I was on some bad psychedelic trip. 

I started to feel a little better last week. After working 6 full days I came home and cleaned my house. I even attacked some piles. This never happens. When something like this happens I unfortunately have to ask myself if I am acting normal or if this is the beginning to a manic episode. 

Then this morning before work I made a meal, walked my dog, did my dishes, and mowed the lawn before work. This is all great and productive. I always have to be on guard when I get these bursts of productivity. I have to ask myself if my sleep is becoming disturbed, am I talking too fast, am I more impulsive, and is my mind going to a bizarre and reckless place. 

I want to be normal. I want to have consistency and feel good about tackling chores and making meals. Instead I have to be concerned. I have to pay careful attention. I have to keep my doctor on speed dial. 

The moment I need none to little sleep is when I know I am going into that hyper crazed place called mania. I sleep more than is recommended. Then suddenly I sleep two hours and am on a dangerous high. So I have learned to watch myself. 

Right now I do not know if I am getting healthier and on the up or if I am on a path towards chaos and hospitalization. I do not know, I just stand guard.

Just One Drink...

Drinking did not take for me until my very late twenties. I grew up using a lot of drugs, but I stayed away from drinking. I was one of those people that once I started I was almost face down into the bottle every night. On the weekends I would start drinking as soon as I got up. I was not waking up in bed with a cup of coffee, I had vodka and whiskey. 

I think from the moment I started it was only casual for a few short months. It became an impulse and obsession very quickly. If I could not be drinking then I did not want to do it. I finally found something that silenced my inner storm. 

Sometimes on my way home from work I could not even wait and had to stop for a strong one. It became the driving force of my life. I went to work on no sleep, I went to work in a fog or still buzzed, and I thought about it all day. It cured my anxiety, it stopped the racing thoughts, it put me at home in my skin for once. 

I always said no, I will not let alcohol be a part of my life. I took one drink and it was literally over from that point. I am stressed so I drink, I am celebrating so I drink, I am bored and I drink, I am spinning out of control so I drink. There was always an excuse. There was always a reason. 

I drank alone, I went out alone, I was in a lot of compromising situations, I said a lot that I have no memory of. I found a way to survive, yet it was chipping more and more away at my being. I began to live in guilt, I began to live in shame. I became increasingly suicidal and attempted a few times under the influence. 

A very large percentage of people with bipolar self medicate with alcohol. Many suicides are completed by people hurting and under the influence. If I were not drunk maybe I would have called the hot lines, drove to a safe place, found a way to cope. The alcohol which I felt was my closest friend had taken absolute control over me. 

It is hard to explain and hard for some to understand. They say just stop, do not do it, do not buy it, do not stop at the bar and the liquor store on the way home. I would tell myself I am going straight home but before I knew it I was making the right hand turn just like I did every single night. 

I probably lived in a nine year binge. There were maybe a day every three or four weeks that I did not drink. I was blacking out every night. I would wake up and think what did I do, what did I say? Did I let my dog out? Did I feed her? 

It has been over a year that I have lived sober. I do not miss the drinking but I do miss the relief. Then I remember the relief toward the end was only for a flash of time. Maybe after the third or fourth glass of wine, maybe after the first pint, but then the switch was flipped. The torment came back just as bad and just as strong. Maybe it was even worst. I do not know. It all seems like a series of nightmares, I wake up, the sun is shining, but then it gets too close and I am burning and trying to escape all over again.

Bipolar Life

I am not doing well. It has been a few months now. Things are getting worst. I use to think the depression was the hardest part of this. Now I think it is the manic symptoms. I used to like the mania. I was super energized, did not need sleep, had an answer in half a second, I was wild and reckless but invincible. I felt immune to every consequence, on top of the world, on top of my life. My place was spotless, I worked two jobs, I ran almost every day.

Now, the manic symptoms are torture. I am riddled with anxiety, I shake, I talk faster than my thoughts. I feel hollow and every word I say is fast and it echoes inside of me. I feel out of body. I feel like I do not have control and that at any moment I will be arrested for something I did so fast ahead of myself.

I feel like everyone is looking at me, I am paranoid, I can hear everything around me at maximum volume. I use all of the effort I have to keep myself in check. I am on plenty of medications, I do not want to take another pill. I do not want to go back to the hospital. My mind is a wormhole of scenarios.

 I cannot live in the moment, the present is a terrifying feeling. It makes me feel like I am on drugs and that someone or something is fighting to take control of me. I have to function, I have to work. I have to eat. I have to shower.

These tasks are all such a heavy burden, I am looking at the mountain. Someone behind me is screaming to climb. Someone in front of me is screaming to hide. The inner conflict is to function long enough and normal enough so that no one can see this. I feel like they can see it. They are waiting for me to fall into a bunch of scattered pieces. It is hell living with myself.