I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder in late 2005. At the time, I was out of my tiny little mind. I was convinced that the groundskeeper at my best friend’s apartment building was working in cahoots with a four year old boy to lock me into a storage building and kill me. All these years later, I can look back on that and almost laugh. Almost. At the time, I *did* think my life was in danger. It’s scary to know that your mind can get that out of stride, so when it started happening this week, I got a bit panicked.
Friday was awful. I was irritable, angry, and scared that my best friend was going to walk out of my life, something I was certain of. Saturday was better. Nothing around me could go fast enough, and my thoughts were coming at warp speed. I had to work to keep the nervous laughter from spilling over and making me look like a fool. I think I managed to keep things out of sight, though.
And then there was Sunday. I slept maybe five minutes Saturday night, none at all on Sunday, and no more than a few minutes Monday. All in all, I’d slept about a half hour between Saturday night and Tuesday morning. Mind you I wasn’t the least bit tired. Mania will do that. They say some people enjoy being manic for that very reason, but I hate it. It is frightening when your brain is moving at warp speed. You can’t keep a thought long enough to process it, but you can’t stop the thoughts coming. For me, the thoughts aren’t of beauty and happiness. They’re typically about death and frequently bring images of decaying bodies. Yay, me. Actually, as I write this it occurs to me that I’d had hallucinations most of the week. Definitely something to tell the shrink.
Yesterday (Tuesday) was awful. I have an early class on Tuedays and made a relative fool of myself there. My partner barely got a word in edgeways, as I couldn’t stop chattering, nor could I stop the peals of nervous laughter bubbling over. On my 37-mile drive back, I felt like crying the entire time. Monday night I heard a helicopter and swore the people in it were coming for me. Deep depression following a way-too-high energy level, with a bit of psychosis mixed in. It sounds like a sort of psychiatric cocktail.
Today is a bit better, but I’m still feeling shakey. I slept three hours last night, which is a *definite* improvement. I’ve had no signs of psychosis today, either. The depression is stronger, but to be honest, I’d rather deal with that than mania. Mania scares me, especially when it’s accompanied by depression. Depression alone is easier for me to deal with. Last night I was terrified. Fortunately, my best friend was there to text me a bit as I got ready for work and tried to calm down. Yet another tribute to what an amazing friend and person he is. The shrink is out until Thursday, and I actually couldn’t get anyone from the main clinic to phone back. Good thing this hasn’t been serious.
I am going to phone up tomorrow and see if I can get an appointment with the shrink soon. My next scheduled appointment isn’t until May, and I don’t want to put things off until then. It’s very unusual for me to phone the clinic in general, so they know things are more than a bit odd when I do. Right now I’m taking 200 mg. of Lamictal twice a day. There was talk of adding Depakote, as the atypical anti-psychotics and I do *not* get along. One caused a seizure; the other two caused dangerously low blood pressures and heart palpitations. I’d rather be crazy than dead.