Manic Episodes & Guilt

It's hard to describe mania to someone who's never experienced it, let alone anything like it. But I will try...

My mania starts out as a tingling sensation deep down, an intuitive sense that everything in the universe is aligned perfectly for me, there is no need to doubt my ability and talents. I fearlessly plan a future full of goals to achieve. I become so zealous that I can't find enough things to do with my time... to keep my mind occupied. And slowly, maybe within a day up to a week, the overconfidence generates a vigor - a desire to strive for endless accomplishment - an incredible drive that you hope & pray leads you to enlightenment, your zenith.

At this point, I feel my best! Flying high... lofty goals, mapping out my dreams... and fully believing that I can accomplish any of the things I set out to do.

Then the body starts to overcompensate. I get a rush of adrenaline at random times throughout the day. I become hypersensitive, super alert to my surroundings, to noises, to events. It starts getting hard to concentrate. I lose focus, no matter how hard I try to meditate and clear my mind. Reading, even the most interesting of subject, becomes nearly impossible. Eyes bouncing all over the page, darting across the room at the slightest hint of activity. Unable to direct my attention to any particular task, I devise a plan of attack - to avoid places, people, things that overstimulate my senses. It can work at times, but only short-term.

Irritability is at an all-time high. I can go from 0-60 in 1.5 seconds! Saying the wrong word to me, or breathing in a loud manner, could set me off. And God forbid that things don't go my way today... because LOOK OUT!!! I'm no longer in control of my reactions. I am imprisoned in the capsule of my body, watching as a spectator all of the things that come to pass. I feel embarrassed by my harsh words, my quick judgment. I am mortified by my openness and vulgarity. I am humiliated by my crudeness. And the thought that in the near future I'd have to apologize for all of these things and make amends - that part really sucks. I want to sob, I want to plead for forgiveness. I want someone to notice that I'm not in control. I want someone to tell me that it's okay, that I'm going to be okay, that I'm safe. But nobody can see me crumbling on the inside... my desperate cries never reach the outside. I'm trapped in a bipolar manic spin and I can't get out...

All I can do is ride out the episode. And when it winds down, nearing the end... damage control. The problem is that I can't take back any words that are said. I can't fix all of the problems I create. I can't simply get back a job I quit in a manic frenzy or rebuild a friendship that I've torn to pieces in the previous few hours or days. Like a hurricane, the manic episode has ripped my world apart. It's going to take some time to rebuild, to re-up. And each time I experience another manic episode, the stakes get higher, the damage is more devastating, and the resulting losses increase.

What I wouldn't give to be able to put a stop to these episodes altogether! If only people could understand it from my point of view, they might be a little less judging. They might be a little more compassionate. They might not hold a grudge against me for something that was done in a psychotic rage. But we are all humans and we humans have feelings. Unfortunately for me, emotions are sometimes the hardest things to recover after a manic episode. People often forget what you said and did, but they rarely forget how you've made them feel.

To my readers with a family member or friend with bipolar disorder, I beg you to be kind, comforting, and even forgiving. I'm not making excuses for bad social etiquette or unruly behavior or crime. I'm merely pleading with you to take a humanistic perspective and realize that there is someone on the inside dying to be released. If your loved one trusts you, perhaps they will open up to you and tell you how they feel so you can avoid catastrophe. But that trust will never be grown if you judge, ridicule, belittle, or remind your loved one of the wrongs they've done against you.

The hardest thing about rebuilding after a manic episode is forgiving yourself for all that has transpired. It has taken me YEARS to forgive myself for some of the past episodes, and I'm still working on it. The guilt is unimaginable, unbearable at times. And it's my guilt that marks the beginning of the steep downward spiral into the next depressive episode... every. damn. time.