Daily Archives: January 25, 2013

Like Night & Day

Lately there has been a discrepancy between my moods in the daytime and at night. I don’t know if it has to do with being under the influence of ambien while trying to sleep, or if it is just part of my normal mood cycling, but I feel as if “Night Sarah” has not been a good representation of the (slightly) more on the ball Sarah which emerges during the day.

I think this is something that has been true for a very long time, but sometimes it is more apparent than others. Since getting a smartphone, for example, the discrepancy has become pretty obvious -because Night Sarah leaves tons of notes for Day Sarah, with the expectation I will read them and definitely consider them in the morning.  Having a smartphone makes this easier to do, because all Night Sarah has to do is roll over in bed and jot down a few things before rolling back over and entering that foggy headspace again.

At first I (Day Sarah) found these notes somewhat amusing. It is clear that I have a different perspective on many things than Night Sarah does, and I have disagreed with a lot of her statements. On top of that, the vast majority of these notes have been indecipherable… with the exception of a continuing series of notes saying, “write about Night Sarah.”

Here’s an example of one I got the other day.

Moving into conservation territory, scale back, phase shift into the poor space. Constant worry and stress, it is another plane of existence. Living is easy with enough, life works differently when you don’t have enough. The rules change.

Now, I think that is about the divide between being poor and having enough to live off of, but I don’t really know what it means (or what was meant by it).

I don’t think I have a personality disorder, so lets get that out of the way right now. What people don’t seem to understand, though, is that when you are dealing with moods that put you into different head spaces that make you act differently than you normally would, it often feels like being an entirely different person.

I know that many of the times I am depressed I think, say, and do things I wouldn’t normally do. On what level am I still myself at those times? How realistic is it to feel or believe I’ve become someone else?

Night Sarah is the same way. While during the day I can employ some kind of logic (not always but generally) and rationalization, Night Sarah is fantastical in thinking, believing she can understand deep thoughts I couldn’t have otherwise, and yearning eagerly to share them with others.

Maybe this is just mania? I suppose the telltale signs are there, grandiose thoughts, communication breakdown, being wildly alert, etc. Even so, this has been happening for long enough that I haven’t been able to catch it (or think much of it) until recently, making tracking go out the window. I guess that means I will have to be extra watchful to figure out what exactly is causing it, and if it is a rebound from the evening medications or a switch happening after dark.