The Thrill and The Fear of Mania

Recently, I saw my psychiatrist for my monthly medication management visit. She increased my Zoloft by 50mg due to some lingering issues I have. Of course, I'm always wary of the potential for a manic episode due to such a change. So far, I haven't noticed too much of a change, but something caught my attention the other day.

My last post, although having nothing to do with Bipolar Disorder, detailed an endeavor that I had attempted several times over the last year and a half. This time, I approached it with a singular determination I have not had with my prior attempts. It was not like I steeled myself to do it, or had made a firm plan to do it. I just decided in the middle of the day I was going to give it a shot, and then was determined that he was not going to outlast me. While someone might not find this odd, for me it can be disconcerting. I just did it. There was no thinking about it, nor planning, not even a decision involved.

A phenomenon that used to puzzle me was that sometimes I was able to just pull this amazing self discipline out of nowhere. For example, if I had put on some weight, I'd make half hearted attempts to take it off, but was just too lazy to stick with anything. Then somewhere, out of the clear blue sky, I had it. There was no thought put into it. It's like I was on auto pilot. I'd be at the grocery store and just buy the right things to go on a diet. I'd get up the next morning and go to the gym. Suddenly I was off...and in the space of 2-3 months, I'd have lost 15-20 lbs., or however much I wanted to lose. One time, I got really heavy. It happened and I lost 50 lbs. within 3 months.

When I get hypomanic, it sets in differently. I want to make things beautiful and am likely to start a home improvement project. All the while, I will feel resentful that I'm the one doing it, that I can't rely on anyone else to get anything done. I'll be grumpy and spiteful, downright angry that no one would even bother to help. Funny thing is if anyone tried to help, I'd be even more pissed off. As if they didn't think I was fully capable of doing it on my own, or that they were trying to horn in and destroy my vision.

Once I learned I was Bipolar and began looking back and examining my behavior in the past, I realized this was the first sign of the onset of mania for me. I don't start with pressured speech. In fact, I don't have that much at all. I have flight of ideas, but that's mostly at night. I have competing thoughts all the time, manic or not, so that's not much of an indicator. For me, full blown mania involves the sense of a constant thrill, a heady, intoxicated feeling. My skin tingles. I smile a lot. I become the quintessential party girl. Anything to pump up that intoxication, make it go higher and higher. I feel grandiose, and for once I feel like I truly love myself. I also feel like everyone else should too. When I'm not manic, I feel very embarrassed about it, because I know I was so over the top it must have seemed weird or tiresome to everyone else. I must seem very conceited.

I don't feel any of those things now, but it does take some time from the onset of discipline to the elation. My worry then becomes "Will I say anything about it?" Will I secretly hope no one notices? Will I hope that they not have the courage to take my happiness away? I admit, these things have already entered my mind. That's how seductive mania is. Then there is the desire to think "Please, just let me feel it a little while before anyone notices. I won't let myself go too far before I say anything." It's like being a junkie. Just let me have one little hit and then I'll go straight, I promise. I even feel ashamed for having these ideas and feelings. It's that much like being an addict.

On the other hand, I'm terrified. What if it turns into a psychotic episode? That scared the shit out of me. It is something I never, ever, ever want to suffer again. It hit out of nowhere and crashed down on me like a tidal wave. To keep manic feelings to myself and then sink into the madness of delusions and hallucinations? Not only is that terrifying, it becomes very dangerous. I'm completely out of control and God knows what could happen. What if I hurt someone this time? Not a risk I'd like to take.

Then the junkie raises her head again. But it's not like that...you're not traumatized by surgery this time. You're not on all those pain meds, antibiotics, anesthesia coursing through your veins. I have already asked my husband to keep a vigilant eye on me, but the sneaky addict thinks she can conceal it, or at best convince him that everything is fine, or guilt him into doing nothing. See, classic junkie behavior. It's sickening and shameful to me.

For now, I'm just keeping an eye on it, and praying for strength. I may be worried for nothing, but I'm watching out for myself.

As a footnote, (and totally irrelevant to this post), I logged a lot of miles on that potty train with my youngest. We had some success this weekend. Unfortunately for me, my oldest son decided to put him on the potty just one time, and reaped the benefits of all my hard work. Sigh. That's irony in action. I'm disappointed I didn't get to have that moment all to myself, but I'm so proud of my oldest. It was such a mature thing to do. I'm also proud of my youngest, it was the harder of the two things to do in potty training. Not that you wanted to know that part. It's just a major breakthrough (as anyone who has ridden the potty train knows).