March 25, 2017
I wish I had a name for this feeling, and at the same time, I wish I’d never feel it again. I can’t stop the feeling from coming in, stronger and faster now that the panic has set in.
When I went to see my counselor the first time, she’d convinced me to get back on meds. I called my psychiatrist, got an appt., then canceled a week beforehand. After seeing my counselor a second time, I admitted I cancelled and she encouraged me to get the appt. back so I tried and got one for the following Monday. The office just called to cancel that appt. because the doctor is in the hospital and on medical leave. I’ve called the office to reschedule about ten times between yesterday and today and no one’s picking up the phones. Pure frustration.
Because, this last week was insanely stressful at work, and I slipped into a hypomanic episode. Work continues to be stressful, but I’ve crashed since the weekend started. I am fully aware I need to be on meds and seeing a counselor regularly and possibly a support group. I have a sign on my mirror that reads, “You have Bipolar, and you’ll be okay.” The part where I realized that I need meds, like everyday, is the part that started making the bipolar real for me. I can’t live being tossed back and forth like this. My counselor is right too in that every episode I’ve had, depressive or manic, has slowly grown stronger over the years. What was first just hard to get out of bed and a little more energy every once in awhile has transformed into suicide attempts and blackout periods during my four-day-no-sleep manic episodes. I’m lying to myself when I say I don’t need meds because bipolar makes me feel like I’ve got the potential to break my own heart from sadness or murder myself without realizing it, I just feel like I’ve got no control and if I let it go I will do damage. So I’m seeking help, again, and hopfully in a few weeks I’ll be back on meds. Different meds though because Latuda was terrible and expensive.
But the feeling. It’s like homesickness, but I’m homesick for somewhere I’ve never been, or I’m homesick for an idea. I feel alone and sad and on the edge of something. Mania makes me feel alive and drunk and invincable. With depression I don’t feel anything, nothing makes me feel anything except tired. When I’m normal obviously I’ve got nothing to complain about, just dread the next episode. When I’m in the middle, mixed, I feel that homesick feeling like I want to do anything to fufill it and get it out of my head. It’s so hard to put into words. I just feel desperate to feel something and stop feeling everything all at once.
Hypomania is exhausting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I slip back into it this following week. I’m staying in this weekend doing paperwork, eating Burger King tonight, and renting Amazon movies. I was thinking about my old mania the other night and how I always used to have a pattern when I was manic. Those were the weeks where I would buy at least five new things for my wardrobe, sleep with at least three different men, and change my hair in some way (usually by dying or cutting it myself.) I knew moving up here would solve the issue of sex, but the hair became more of an issue with me turning it orange and shaggy before finally getting it professionally dyed and leaving it alone.
It sounds so dramatic to say I’m just trying to keep my head afloat, but it also seems pretty accurate. Just trying to make it with this brain.