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TGIF: That Godforsaken Insomniatic Freefall

 TGIF, world.

If you're new here, you might not know this, but - I have bipolar disorder.

Hell, you might not know that either way. It's something that's really hard to discuss. There's the stigma at large, and there's the stigma we place on ourselves.

And by "we" I mean "me."

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in early 2005, so basically Diagnosed Bipolar Me is now old enough to vote, serve our country, and/ or buy a lottery ticket.

 I'm sure that this Mental Illness comes with different strokes for different folks... but, for me, it's the manic side of things that tend to spin out of control.

Depression is like a wam blanket for me - familiar, and maybe even embedded in my DNA to the very core of my being. I'm sad - I'm often in existential crisis - but "baseline" me can handle it. I can cleanse my emotions with a sad movie or song. 

I can always get out of bed.

Manic me - my own Weird Barbie - feels an urgent and insatiable need to try to unlock the mysteries of the Universe.

And you just can't always accomplish that during daytime hours. 

Hence comes: the midnight oil. And we start working overtime. 

For the most part over the years, I've experienced mania in a very frantic and fearful way - sometimes feeling like the rapture was taking place, like, I was in the midst of it but it was bad, very bad, not good like you all wanted it to be. 

Sometimes I felt like if I figured out God that I would die as I fell asleep because it would be like a Leveling Up or Game Over type of situation. But, I didn't want to die. 

Once I believed that the Secret is that humans actually never need sleep and the secret to Eternal Life is just not falling asleep. I tried to convince my husband, but it fell on deaf and rational ears. 

Ha. 

But, I digress. This post is supposed to be focused on insomnia. It's funny, actually. I've been dealing with manic symptoms for almost two decades, and I only learned the following after getting a new doctor a year ago:

The usual brain wants and needs to sleep but can't - that's insomnia. That person feels tired the next day.

The manic brain doesn't want sleep and doesn't need sleep. The manic brain is not tired the next day.

So, I need to re-title this whole post.

The issue with my Manic brain is that I've experienced these "Insomni-esque" phases with only a terrified state of mind - until now. 

Right now, my brain is keeping me awake - and my medications aren't keeping me asleep. I've been up half the night for about three weeks now. I sleep for a couple of hours, get up and write/ piddle/ listen to podcasts/ drink some Chai Tea Latte/Read... and then go back to bed for a couple more hours. 

It's not sustainable, but it will pass. I'm not going to die from lack of sleep. My husband is a great partner, and he knows the drill. He's fairly new at this, since we just got married in May of 2021. But, this is my third "round" of mania with him. My episodes - the big ones with repurcussions - used to be YEARS apart in time, incidentally. I think the uptick in annual episodes has to do with aging and hormones. 

Anyway, we have learned together what works and what does not. He gives me space. If he wakes up and I'm not in bed, he doesn't come looking for me to try to convince me to lay back down. He listens to me closely to ensure I'm making sense - we don't want psychosis taking hold. We want to ensure I'm safe to drive myself around, to work, to take care of my daughter. 

And finally, he gives me grace. I tend to be more irritable and apt to snap over little things when I'm manic. This is both a symptom of sleep deprivation and the mania itself. So, while I'm usually prone to bottling thing up when I'm frustrated, he's gotten used to me being a bit more vocal (and generally sarcastically so) during these times.

For my own emotional and spiritual health, I no longer try to dissect the wonders of the world when I'm feeling manic. I don't want the Frantic Manic. There's great non-fiction to read. There are poets. There are short stories like you would not believe.

I can save the bible for when I'm already feeling depressed... because... I mean, there's some sad and scary stuff in there.

And I really DO love a good cry.


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