Here comes Mania, here comes Mania,
Right down Bipolar lane
Static and Chaos and all their brethren
Pullin’ on my brain
First I’m laughin’, suddenly cryin’
All is way too bright
Hang your head and say your prayers
‘Cause Mania comes tonight!
I wrote this just now as I was steam cleaning the carpet steps. I don’t know of a better way to spend a late Thursday evening. Now I think I’ll clean some closets. God what I wouldn’t give to be normal.
What’s interesting about mood disorders, or at least, what’s interesting in my experience, is having the ability to tell when my next high or low is coming. I’ve been feeling this manic episode building for the past couple of days and I know it’s right around the bend. Even as I type this, I’m frequently having to correct mistakes I’ve made because my hands are shaking too much to type with my normal accuracy. I have my next sentence planned before I’ve finished typing this one. Which, reader, has made for some interesting fixes in the proofreading stage. I’m sure I’ll find more edits after I hit publish. I always do.
Anyway. i have no profound update today. No great story to tell. Just my racing heart and thoughts and the knowledge that in the coming days and then for a week or so, it will only get worse. However, until I crash again, I’ll be damned if my kitchen won’t be spotless and maybe I’ll paint another bedroom.
Whenever I get into a manic state, I always feel a desperate need to move out of my house. We’ve lived in the home we’re in now for about five years, and for every episode has been a corresponding itch to move. I need more space, more time, more organization. I always joke about throwing away all of my stuff during these times, but the possibility is very real. Tonight, I scoured the kitchen, tossing casserole dishes, coffee mugs, tupperware… just about anything I could get my hands on. My husband was by my side offering support and keeping me from tossing things I would later miss. The boxes of items for the Goodwill truck piled higher but I still can’t shake this feeling. There are other reasons why I want to get the hell out: Our daughter’s school is terrible, the house is small, the neighborhood is deteriorating. But is it all in my head?
This is the first time I’ve actively pursued the need to stretch my legs. I wonder though how I’ll feel during the next bout of mania. If we move, will the new house be too small? That neighborhood suddenly seedy? Worse yet, will my next swing be in the middle of a move? What will happen if I’m too low to get out of bed and we have piles of stuff to get out. Being bipolar affects my life in new ways that I’m learning about every day.
I believe I would be correct in saying that the “leveling out” I thought I was in, is actually the beginning of a manic episode. I say this because I had a hard time falling asleep last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about how all of our electronics needed their screens cleaned. I imagined them all, covered in fingerprints and God know what else, and I had to force myself to stay in bed; heart racing and head buzzing.
This past weekend was also a good example of parenting in a mild manic state. The things that normal parents can deal with: “Mama, mama, mama, mama, mama…. I need some juice.” They make me want to throw a watermelon out the window. Think about it. How satisfying would that be?! Thankfully, my husband was able to step in and suggest that maybe I needed a little alone time. I think he’s getting better at detecting my moods than I am.
Hopefully this mania will stay semi close to normal and I won’t do anything rash. Like throw away all of my stuff, or paint the living room pink. It’s been known to happen.