I don’t know what it is but there is something about music and mania. Almost every time I am manic I like to listen to music and write.
Its like the music keeps me focused enough to be able to write something that makes more sense that the jumble that is inside my mind.
Sometimes I feel like the music is seeping into my soul.
I sit and I write and the constant movement of my hands flying across the keyboard and my leg shaking is somehow satisfying. Fulfilling.
Its like, I cannot even explain the feelings that I am feeling at the moment. It is truly bliss. I love the feeling of my fingertips flying over the keys. I love the sound of he soft clicking just under the sound of he music in my ears.
After waiting from 3:30 am to 9:30 am and still not seeing a doctor at the hospital that was closest to me, a friend picked me up and took me to a mental health hospital. I was in to triage, seen the nurse for all my history, seen a doctor and got prescriptions in less than an hour.
So much much better than the waiting dance I was doing at the first hospital. Waiting in a crowded emergency room for hours was not my idea of fun when I was feeling like I was going to crawl out of my skin and was having an extremely hard time staying in my seat. I literally shook my legs the entire time I was there because I was hoping the movement was going to be enough to let me not go completely out of my mind.
Anyway, Zopliclone 7.5mgs for sleep and Tegertol 150mgs for the mood stabilizer. Took it at 1, got a hot hot hot bath, lay down and managed 2 hours of sleep. But thats it, now I am wide awake again and can’t take it anymore until tomorrow night.
Zopliclone never really worked well for me before, would put me to sleep *sometimes* and more often that not wear off in 30-40 minutes. So I do not have much hope for it, but I didn’t want anything stronger at the moment.
So my sleep this week has went something like this:
Friday night: 5 broken
Saturday Night: 4-5 broken
Sunday night: 3 broken
Monday night: 1 1/2 broken
Tuesday night: Nothing
Wednesday day (after taking the meds): Little less than 2 hours
And for weeks before that I have been having broken sleep, weird sleeping hours. In retrospect, its always sleep.
Right now I have absolutely no time to deal with the hypomanic episode that my body/mind is trying to unleash on me.
I cannot deal with it. I must not get it.
I am hours away from my normal doctor, days, hours and minutes removed from his care.
In a strange place, where I would have to see a strange doctor, to deal with something that I really do not have the time or patience to deal with right now.
I have not been hypomanic or manic in over a year and I am currently not medicated in regards to my Bipolar disorder at all.
And it could not have come at a worst time for me.
I have had a conversation with a child psychiatrist about what is happening, and the right route I need to follow and which hospital to go to in order to be seen in a timely manner. But I am beyond nervous about taking that step.
I am pushing it off until tomorrow to see how I feel then. But as of right now its on a downward worsening slope that I can already see a difference since this morning.
Normally I probably wouldn’t notice this early in the mania but I am so hyper aware because of another situation and trying to keep that under control that I began noticing the signs late last night / early this morning. Its been lack of sleep for weeks. Weird broken sleep that has gotten way worst over the past few days up to a week.
I have some of my personal signs, the tingly feeling, the agitation, the rapid thoughts, the not being able to sit still at all, lack of sleep, the talking fast, not being able to talk proper because my words are jumbled. The wanting to write.
Sorry I have not been writing much lately. I have a couple of things going on that is really taking up a ton of time, but they should be clued up within the next week and then I should be able to get back into writing again.
I am feeling pretty good lately but sleeping a lot more than normal, I am not sure if that is a result of the new medication or something else but I will keep an eye on it. I am probably sleeping 10-16 hours in a 24 hour period and this is an extreme amount of sleep for me. Anyone of you who have been following my blog for a while know that I never sleep like that.
I don’t feel depressed or anything, just really really seem to need a ton of sleep lately.
How are you all doing? I would love to hear updates on everyone in the comments.
Dealing with some anxiety here tonight, first time I felt like this in quite some time. I was watching something on tv and I guess some of it hit home with some things that I was and have been going through in life.
I just started to feel like I couldn’t swallow and then my heart was fluttering and my whole body started to tingle.
In all honesty I should try to go to sleep since its close on 5 am………
A Bipolar journey is one of extremes, one of differences, emotions, opposites. To me, in my eyes it is a spectrum. The spectrum of someone with Bipolar Disorder can be so vast that many times I feel like no two of us are alike.
Yet I know we are alike. We have similarities. We follow similar patterns. We do similar things. But at the same time we are different. We do things at different levels, different planes.
Bipolar Disorder consists of so much, it is complex in design. It is not just the adjective that today’s society has made it out to be. It is not the the descriptive word often used in every day speech to describe someone who has a mood swing caused my something small or a remark that made someone angry. It is not just “oh he/she is so bipolar”. It is not just a snappy mood, or getting angry, or teenage rebellion.
For me, it is many different things at many different times. It is flying, soaring like a bird, free. Yet is is Chaos and frustration, destruction and despair.
How can it be all of these things, good and bad, you ask?
Anyone diagnosed with Bipolar disorder understands what I mean when I say that. You know what it is like to feel all of those things at different times and sometimes even at the same time.
I can describe my mania with good and bad words. I can explain the euphoric feelings of the “good” mania and then in the same breath I can describe the chaos enriched mixtures of the “bad” mania.
I can explain how in a mania or hypomania induced state I was able to go weeks on as little as 20 hours of sleep. How I took my cupboard doors off all of my cupboards (I have a very very large kitchen), repainted inside and out, put all new hinges on them, re hung them and changed the color of the doors, and scrubbed the knobs then then replaced everything into my cupboards in 2 days or less, when I had never done anything like that before.
I can tell you I spent hours in a mania writing some of the best writing I have ever created.
I can tell you how I made raised garden beds and planted carrots, peas, beans, potatoes, and pumpkins and I wanted to raise chickens.
I can tell you that during mania I cannot stay still. I clean, I cook and I move around my house doing things at alarming rates.
But I can also tell you that I had to keep shaking my leg and moving my hands just to sit to eat, just to check email, just to write. Because I had to move.
I can tell you that I drove around for hours to keep my kids from seeing how bad the mania was getting, even when I truly should not have been driving. That a friend drove around with me for hours in order to try to keep me focused enough to be able to drive. In order to keep me in check so to speak.
I can tell you I talked so fast that my husband and closest friends were unable to understand me. That I jumped all over the place in my conversation that my conversation was not even able to be followed.
I can tell you that I couldn’t read a book because I couldn’t understand what I was reading…but I could research raising chickens for hours on end, or whatever else I was fixated on during that particular mania.
I can tell you that what starts as the fun life of the party mania always turns into more damaging mania.
The one where the paranoia creeps in, where people on cell phones, even complete strangers are out to get me, they are being devious and are plotting something against me.
The one where those two people sitting at the coffee shop table, whom I do not even know and are sharing a laugh over a memory are really (but of course only in my mind) laughing at me. Making fun of me.
I can tell you about the heightened senses. About the times when colors and lights are super vivid. When my eyes hurt because everything around me is over sharp, over focused. Or about the times when everything is loud, even the thoughts inside my head sound like thunder. I can tell you about the times I am so perceptive I can almost feel the earth turning.
And those…..they are just the bits and pieces of the mania. Just the tip of an iceberg.
I can also tell you about the depression. Not just a passing sadness, but the deep dark hell hole of despair that I am unable to dig myself out of.
I can tell you about the times I want to go to sleep and never wake up, even though I didn’t want to actually die.
I can tell you about the times I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror because I hated, loathed and despised the person looking back.
I can tell you about the times I held blades or hot lighters to my skin just to feel. Just to get a release. About the times I pulled my hair or scratched my arms and legs while hiding because I needed to feel but I was unable to cut or burn at that particular moment in time.
I can tell you about the times I sat contemplating suicide. Just seconds away from downing more meds than I even care to mention, or slicing a knife across my wrists, or jumping in front of a moving transport truck.
I can tell you about the actual suicide attempt, about the hospital stays when the mania or depression gets too bad.
I can tell you about the countless medications I have taken to try to tame the Bipolar Beast.
I can tell you about the times I don’t want to get out of bed and the times I don’t want to even get into bed. About the times I don’t want anyone to touch me and about the times I need someone to hold me tight, to hold me together because I am falling apart.
And these are just some of the things I can tell you.
There are mixed states and manias, depressions, medication changes, hospitalizations, complications to medications (scary ones), times I drink alcohol just to feel, times the anxiety is so bad I feel like I am dying and the times I actually feel crazy.
But even though all of these things are a part of me, a part of my disorder…..they are not all of me. I am so much more.
I have periods of “normal” mood, no mania, no depression. Periods where I work and become a functional part of society.
For me Bipolar Disorder is a spectrum with extreme mania on one end and extreme depression on the other. But in the middle of the two are milder forms of the mania, hypomania, milder forms of depression, mixed episodes and of course the “normal” periods.
Because I am not just made up of the adjective Bipolar that people like to use. Bipolar disorder is so much more. So the next time you say “I am so Bipolar” or “She is so Bipolar” perhaps you should take a moment to read some information on what real Bipolar disorder is all about, because I am fairly certain you won’t use it as an adjective after that.