Here I am. Sitting in my room on a Friday night trying to write another post for my blog but seem to have writers block after only writing two pieces. The energetic creative streak has gone. That confident voice inside my head that assured me people will actually want to read about what I have to say has disappeared. The anxiety that I’m writing about things that are way too personal and shouldn’t be aired in public has hit me hard. The hypomanic stage is over and it seems I’m on a downer.
The changes in my mood still surprise me. Even with the medication and the awareness of what’s happening, there are no obvious warning signs or triggers, at least not to my knowledge. It’s all a guessing game. I never realise I’m hypomanic until it has worn off and I’ve calmed down. The depression can either creep up on me slowly or just suddenly be there, whether I like it or not. (trust me, the answer is always not.) There’s no organisation! Might be why I’m so unorganised in real life. The fact that the changes happen so quickly is the worst part. I go from thinking I’m pretty much the best thing to walk the earth one day to wondering why nobody likes me the next. Sounds crazy? Well, that’s because it is.
I have to admit, I do enjoy the hypomanic stages. It’s better than any drug I’ve ever been on. The feeling of self-worth is amazing. My confidence is through the roof. I can’t do wrong. I automatically look and feel better. Unfortunately, it does come with its down sides. Turns out you can have too much of a good thing. The money that I’ve been trying to save is spent on the next exciting social activity or the new clothes that I have to have because I look amazing in them. Any man around me is instantly a potential person I can sleep with. Alcohol and drug intakes go through the roof. My impulse control seems to disappear. I’m out for instant gratification and I don’t care where or who I get it from. It sounds exciting and fun, and at the time it is, but when that feeling wears off I feel cheap and feel like I’ve somehow betrayed myself. All those times I’ve tried to save up for something and have to start all over again. The amount of friendships with guys that I’ve ruined. It’s a horrible feeling when you feel like you’ve lost yourself.
Then you’ve got the downers. At best I just feel a bit rubbish. I’m not the most entertaining person to talk to and I probably come off as quite boring or just really tired (the most popular excuse of all time.) My anxiety increases and all the irrational thoughts flood into my head. I become quite needy and fixate on a person to get attention from. At its worst, I’m in bed all day and don’t move. I’m happier when I’m asleep so why bother waking up and facing the real world? Day to day tasks seem to take a ridiculous amount of effort. Trying to have a shower whilst depressed takes the same effort as walking 100km (trust me, I’ve done both.) Eastenders is actually comforting to watch.
I guess the only thing to do now is look out for the patterns or triggers that I might be missing. Have a plan of action for when each mood strikes and try to make the most of it and just go with the flow. Oh, and blog about something interesting. Maybe.