The last thing my (ex) therapist said to me (jokingly) was,
“…and I never got to see you manic!”
In my depressed state I shrugged and replied,
“it is rare these days… euphoric mania, anyway. It hardly ever happens anymore, frankly I can’t even remember the last time it did.”
Little did I know, within a week I’d be hunkered over my chest of drawers urgently rearranging my shirts because, well, is it better for them to be grouped by print or by sleeve length?? And, no, no, no, the underwear needs to be arranged in descending order of favoritism and then by color!
As much as I would like to say I saw this swing coming, I would be lying to you. Generally I would say I have a tendency to become manic in October, however I find that when I say that ahead of time it never actually occurs.
This time around I think I would like to blame the aggressive head cold that has been going around for my lack of catching the warning signs. Normally euphoric mania comes on largely in a physical way for me first, but I can’t say I felt any kind of awesomeness, electric humming, or skin-crawliness that I normally experience until much later on. This time around (because of the cold) I felt sinus pressure, ringing ears, a sore throat that lingered on much longer than I anticipated, and initially much more lethargy than I normally would when mania strikes. By the time I started to realize things were getting out of control it was a bit too late to divert it.
Of course, in hindsight I can say, “ahhhhhh, ok,” to the series of odd and rather impulsive actions that led up to my frantic laundry situation and subsequent hours of laying in bed awake, chest pounding, having rapid conversations in my own head. One would think I might have had a clue when the series of somewhat depressing situations I’ve found myself in lately became increasingly hysterically funny to me, or when I stopped each of five consecutive movies I was trying to watch halfway through because I no longer felt interested (and then the only movie that did hold my attention was The Silence of the Lambs), or when I cut all of the instances of the number “2” out of a cosmo magazine to see which one was “the best,” or when I spontaneously maxed out my credit card buying tickets to see The Who. I was even having trouble writing, many of my sentences were coming out backwards.
Contrary to popular belief, these are not things I normally do. I’m the kind of girl that usually just likes to wad her shirts up in a ball and shove them in the drawer, or look at the prices and fluid ounces of every bottle of shampoo in the store to make sure I am getting the absolute best deal before buying one. I know I usually claim I don’t do the “spending” thing with mania, but apparently this was an exception. (Boy, I hope I’m not inadvertently picking that habit up!)
To be fair, I think normally these are things my boyfriend would probably notice, however he was out of town for work all last week.
The episode seems to have peaked Saturday night and then turned to the dark side, leaving me experiencing four swings of “crazy girlfriend” type, hostile-agitated-mixed chunks appearing between mildly euphoric moments throughout the day.
I’ve been having trouble getting my thoughts together long enough to complete anything I’ve been trying to write, but I have a few ideas that I hope to get down soon. Thankfully I have been lucky not to experience any psychosis in the last week (knock on wood), however the sort of hostile, “I hate you” mood swings I’ve been having haven’t exactly been a walk in the park either.
I have my intake appointment with my new psychiatric clinic on Friday (hooray!) and though they are usually somewhat grueling, I will be happy to have someone around to help me untangle the big ball of emotional spaghetti in my brain again.