I couldn’t quite let it go.
I didn’t write something for this morning, and it has been frustrating me all day.
I even came up with 8 topics to write about, but given the nature of the morning, I couldn’t make the magic happen.
Since Corey’s return I have been subject to an increasingly intense hypomanic episode. Each day has been more severe than the last until I’ve been right up near the cusp of mania, and I had been forcing myself to sleep each night through the addition of a sleep aid to my bedtime snack.
Normally that will take things back down a notch, but it didn’t seem to help this time around. By yesterday the world around me had become both immediate and utterly profound in that floaty sort of way that only the upper regions of hypomania can seem to afford.
And while I kept being told how much others love the sensation and want to gobble it up, all I could think was that I didn’t want it.
Sure, the physical sensations are quite nice. But it is difficult when I was becoming distracted by the smell of the wind off of Puget Sound or the Piroshky shop. I couldn’t carry on a conversation because the words became intertwined, and the apartment was shrinking around me, and I would misplace the second half of my sentences by the time I’d only uttered the first half. Try to get something done then.
On top of that, the fear is in me. The knowledge that things could becomes quite worse very suddenly and without my noticing. What if I tried to pay my bus fare with a handful of buttons? What if I said something offensive to someone important to me? What if I became so distracted I forgot to go home? It all sounds fun and silly but is a genuine concern!
By Wednesday I was running furiously on the treadmill when I remembered the prescription my psychiatrist had given me (and I hadn’t filled) for this very situation. I slapped a hand to my face, suddenly realizing my error in failing to fill it right away would mean at least 24 more hours of intense fluctuation between agitation (a mere annoyed and frustrated kind, crazy girlfriend hasn’t shown her face since Sunday) and euphoria.
So yesterday I went about my business as best I could, filled the prescription and just barely made it home. There were 1 million and 1 distractions, but somehow I managed to evade them all.
I karate chopped it [the episode] with risperidone, however I have been forced into being a zombie as punishment all day. Up until maybe an hour ago I don’t think I could have put a written sentence together to save my life. I am hoping by tomorrow things will mellow back out.
And both fortunately and unfortunately, my skydive was cancelled today because of the weather (thanks Seattle). We’re rescheduling for another day, which is annoying (because it would have been awesome) but kind of good (since I was a zombie today).
This is a rather unusual place for me to be, so I am still at a bit of a loss when it comes to handling it. It does make me laugh, though, when people on the street seem to think I’m just high on drugs… when I am on drugs, just not nearly the ones they’d expect.
As I said, I couldn’t seem to let it go that I hadn’t written anything, and the result is this brief explanation. Perhaps I will have something of more value tomorrow.