Manic Episodes

Those with bipolar disorder feel like they’re so invincible they can fly, on their good days. On bad days, their depression is so crippling that just getting out of bed is the hardest thing in the world. Mania is hard to deal with, I never know if it’s just a good positive day or a manic episode waiting to happen. Although, there are days where I know that I’m on the verge of slipping into a manic state. Usually, on those days I’ve learned that it can take one little stupid thing to make me slip into a mania and cause me to be overly pissed off, like a burning rage almost. Or rather, so hyper and so energized that my fat self could run a marathon and not be out of breath.  However, mostly I’ve learned how to talk myself down and go about my day avoiding things I know might set me off.

My last serious manic episode was in the beginning of February, I was wide awake for a week straight. I was going absolutely crazy during this time. I have no idea what set me off or why I was in such a state. But I couldn’t slow my mind down, and it was going faster than a mile a minute, thoughts and ideas ripping through my mind, everything I had to get done, school assignments, my messy room I was avoiding, and the stresses from my then job. I was having such crazy thoughts after another, my suicidal thoughts were still there but they were louder than ever before and were screaming in my head.

I had an appointment that week with my psychiatrist nurse, I was in her office no more than twenty minutes. I expressed all my feelings, what was going on inside my head, I couldn’t sit still at all, and I kept getting distracted and zoning out while I was talking to her. During all of this, my nurse was more worried about her phone and whoever she was texting. She was hardly answering me and just kept nodding, clearly she wasn’t paying attention.

Whatever was on her phone, or whoever, was clearly more important than her patient who was telling her their suicidal thoughts and just how badly she wanted to kill herself. I left her office after about twenty minutes and all the nurse did was throw another medication at me, she didn’t think about the other four I was already on. Hell, I had absolutely no idea if they would negatively react against one another. Not only that but she didn’t mention lowering any of them for this one or eventually taking one away for this new one.

I was at such a loss, and also feeling like I was losing my mind. I took the script for all my medications and left her office. I felt so, so lost and felt like I was spiraling out of control, I logically feared for my own life and what I could wind up doing. Actually, considered checking myself in somewhere. I refused the new medication when I picked up my others, and since she has refused to see me. She hasn’t answered one phone call or text, even before my refusal, during this whole breakdown she never once answered me.

I had a complete breakdown the very next day at work, the night after I left her office. I was perfectly fine until a friend of mine asked if I was okay(Thanks Diana!) and then I just started sobbing, like uncontrollably. Right before this happened, I actually asked if I could go home, even found my own coverage, and was told I couldn’t leave at all. So that didn’t help my episode at all.

I completely understood and I don’t expect special treatment for my mental illnesses. I also extremely try to not use my bipolar as an excuse for my behavior, I’ll use to it to explain why I acted the way I did or why I out of nowhere had a short fuse. But I in no form try to use my bipolar disorder as an excuse for any of my behavior. (In short, I mean I don’t sit there and say oh well, I’m bipolar so *shrug*.)

After this episode, I felt ashamed and as if I was some attention seeker. For weeks, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone around me thought I did it for attention. I felt like the people around me were treating me different after his, like I was a ticking time bomb waiting to blow up. I hated it, I felt like no one was taking me serious because of my manic episode.

Bipolar is hard, mania is hard. Being misunderstood because of your mental health is hard. I’ve said many times to people in my life, I’m not doing this for attention like I have bipolar disorder and sometimes I just can’t control my emotions. Half the time, I feel that the people around me feel like I milk it and am just seeking attention. However, after opening up to my dad and finally telling him that I have bipolar I learned it actually runs in my family and a few people on his side have it so now I don’t feel so alone as I once did.

Well, I’m here for any of you who suffer with any form of anything and will always be a listening ear for any of you. I’m here and I understand to the fullest. YOU ARE NOT ALONE!