You are here

Mania

Paula Bostrom

Last year at this time, I was soaring high with my first full-blown manic episode. I was feeling better than I've felt in my entire life. Colors were brighter, music sounded better, and my talents came out like never before. I had recently taken up painting and my work was amazing. Music sounded incredible. I swear I could hear each and every note from every individual instrument that was playing. I'm not a singer, but I sang loudly with songs and I was on key for a change. I had superpowers and was invincible. At least I thought I was. I saw the concern in my doctor's eyes when I told her I'd reached 100 mph on the highway on my way to see her. I felt the confusion my 15-year-old son had when I was babbling on and on, unable to stop talking. I chose to ignore them.

It was all spectacular! It was all phenomenal! Until it went bad. My thoughts started racing faster and faster. My mouth could not keep up with the words spinning through my head. I started stuttering and no one could understand what I was saying. My exhilaration turned into anxiety. Nothing made sense. It eventually led to psychosis and I was hospitalized for several days.

So why, when I think back to last year, I only think of the wonderful part of mania? Why don't I also immediately think of the fall? The crash? The impact it had on my family?

Usually, my mind tends to go straight to the negative aspects of a situation. Its part of the illness, but it's also just who I am. Why then, doesn't my mind immediately go to all the destructive parts of mania?

For me, the pain of mania is not what readily comes to mind. I once read a quote that made my experience crystal clear, it said, "Take your best day and multiply it by a thousand, that's mania. However, take your worst day ever and multiply by a thousand, that's the crash."

Eventually, I decided I needed to do something to stop romanticizing mania. I made a list of all the bad things that happen after the revered part of mania is over. I also made a list of my warning signs. A few warning signs I've learned over the past year, as I've been rapid cycling, are urges to drive too fast, constant cravings for alcohol, and wanting to exercise more.

You can also do this. When you find yourself wanting to stop your meds or continue on the hypomanic path, ignoring the warning signs and not seeking help, find the list and review it. Force yourself to read it if need be. If you don't think a simple list will be enough, write yourself a letter reminding yourself how unwise it is to seek out mania.

This past year hasn't been easy for me, but I'm doing my best to make a commitment to myself and my family to be the healthiest person I can be despite the challenges of having bipolar disorder. I hope you will too. 

Comments

I'm a 51 yr. old menopausal woman suffering from bipolar since before my birth. I have been med free for 15months; the depression lasted 9 1/2 months, been manic (lucky if I get a total of 2-3 hours sleep a day) for 5 months! Starting my own business within a couple of months! I know the "crash" is looming and can strike at anytime, still the clarity is awesome

I am bipolar that runs mostly in manic mode. I just recovered from a huge manic crash that had me in depression for 2 weeks. I turned off all phones and isolated. I love the mania too, and its hard to remember the bad

I was diagnosed 24yrs ago and have been through the mill with finding the right meds and dosages. Eventually I was put on a great combo for me BUT the best thing I every did a year ago roughly was taking note of my trigger factors and not feeling guilty for taking myself out of situations that I knew would not be good for me even if it meant I let other people down at the time. Happy to say I function really well now.. But I guess I still live for the mania. I love the quote " I hate bipolar, it's awesome'

I have Cyclothymia and I read about Mania and haven't even experienced it in such a massive way. I experience hypomania. The fabulousness of it is usually a few days then I turn into a raging monster which then turns into numbness and guilt. On the bright side, I do realize as soon as I want to flush my meds it's time to thank them for saving my life.

Add new comment

CAPTCHA
This question is for testing whether or not you are a human visitor and to prevent automated spam submissions.