I LOVE BEING BIPOLAR...IT SUCKS!

Well, it's 12:30 am and I can't seem to sleep due to a condition I like to refer to as insomania.  As you can probably guess from the term, it's insomnia caused by mania.  My mind goes about a million miles a minute and no matter what I do to try and get to sleep nothing works.  Earlier today, I took advantage of having some slight mania.  I did the same thing on Friday.  On Friday, I was at work until 7:30pm and today I was there until 7pm.  That is usually nowhere near my style of working, but when I have what feels like pure adrenaline pumping through my veins I might as well use it for something productive, right?

As I've mentioned on this blog before, and much to my mother's chagrin (the fact that I'm so open about the illness, not the fact that I struggle with it), I'm bipolar.  Bipolar is a condition in which there are two poles that you swing between, mania and depression.  Currently I'm in the manic phase.  The manic phase is honestly a lot of fun as you are on a constant natural high basically.  It feels like when you laugh with good friends for an extended period of time and feel completely content and that there is nowhere else you'd rather be at the moment.  It also feels like a runner's high to give you an idea.  Basically, to my quite limited understanding on the subject, my brain is releasing an extra shot of seratonin or dopamine or some other feel good chemical which is causing that natural high feeling.  Lately, I've been feeling like a million bucks when I walk around at school or church or wherever I might be for that matter.  There has been a breakdown of sorts when I was talking with my mom last week due to not having slept for quite some time and it finally catching up with me.  Overall, though, I feel really, really good.

So why would I want to change that you may ask.  Simply put, because I know the consequences of what inevitably follows an episode of mania.  Basically, as long as this mania lasts and to the severity it gets I can count on the opposite following with an equally long and equally severe episode of depression.  This doesn't happen all the time, mind you, but that seems to be my repeating pattern at least.  Tomorrow I'm meeting with a therapist to try and learn some strategies for preventing depression this winter which is usually when I start getting the blues.  Something has to change soon though, this mania is simply not sustainable.  There is a significant part of me that wishes it was sustainable as it is fun to have self confidence again and have a bit of swagger back in my walk.  

Right now, I'm basically to the point that I've completely forgotten what depression feels like and can't imagine that I ever let myself get to that point in the past.  As I shared with a friend on the phone tonight, from the outside looking in, I just want to shout at myself, "Why can't you just get over this already??"  Bipolar has been a large part of my life since I was 17.  The main complaint I have about the illness is that it seems to be getting worse as I age for some reason.  You would think I would know how to handle it by now; I mean, it's been almost half my life at this point, right?  Shouldn't it be getting easier with each passing episode as I learn how to deal with it more effectively than the last time I had it?  Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case for me.  Many a book I have read on the subject of bipolar disorder and in particular the depression side of things.  Like many people I suspect, I have a hard time applying what I've learned from reading a book.  This is kind of ironic seeing as how I much prefer a book to just about any other type of medium as a means to learning and digesting a new idea or philosophy or economic model or really about anything for that matter.

When I was 17 and they finally figured out what was truly wrong with me, I told the doctor and nurses that they were all just jealous of me since they couldn't operate on a single hour of sleep like I could and had at that point for a week or two.  I can't imagine being one of those doctors or nurses that had to deal with me.  I was such a brat in the mental hospital.  There was a time which I still remember where they put me in solitary confinement and had me strapped down with padded belts around my wrists.  Feeling like a modern-day Houdini, I found my way out of the restraints and knocked on the window to wave to the nurse and let her know/rub it in her face that I had gotten out of the restraints.  Needless to say, she wasn't very amused in spite of the big grin on my face.  The interesting thing about the mental hospital is that for all their efforts to try and help mainly depressed patients, it seemed like an awfully bleak and depressing environment in order for depressed patients to heal and recover.  To anyone out there suffering from depression right now, I would encourage you to really explore your other options before you start handing over cash for endless amounts of medication that probably aren't all that effective anyways.

Wow, I'm finally starting to get sleepy so I'm going to wrap this up now.  It's been great sharing with anyone who's going to read this, thanks for letting me get it off my chest.  In response to your inevitable questioning of my method, mom, this would fall under the category of bragging about my weakness as Paul talked about in the New Testament in order to bring glory to Jesus.  Hope you're understanding about it, even though I know you've always been understanding of me even when I make stupid mistakes.  Thank you.for that, I rarely show my gratitude enough for the upbringing that you and Dad gave Nathan and I as kids.