Bipolarartist83

A mind cursed by too much bliss
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2019-06-09 13:04:47 (UTC)

The last 6 months (part1)

The beginning of the year was quite flat as expected. After the mixed explosion of mania and suicidal thoughts in November (as usual November is my dreaded month)
December and January:
a transition into a state of lethargy that lasted until mid February. I was sleepy most of the time and had no will to talk to anyone. I forced myself to go to the opera rehearsals but I avoided to be around people and talk to them, especially during the break. Then I would lock myself in the toilets until it was over and I could go back in to start signing again. No energy to wash or dress myself, no will to put on make up and everything felt like climbing Mount Everest. Keeping a simple conversation was such a hard task to think of, I was afraid people would come up and start chatting to me.
I wasn't particularly irritable and didn't fear noise so much , although being around a relatively large group of people felt too much to handle for my tired mind.
I guess I was in a depressive phase although I had no suicidal thoughts. I find it quite strange and unexplainable because my suicidal impulses seem to manifest themselves when I am manic or in a mixed episode rather than when I am just depressed.
All this lasted until
February:
It might have been a coincidence, but the news of having to perform a solo dance in the forthcoming production of "Carmen" made me change almost overnight. That too combined with the proximity of Spring. I felt as if I had been finally woken up from that lethargic state into a newly found state of enthusiasm for life. The world went suddenly from black and white into bright and beautiful colours. Someone switched the light on again and I begun dancing for hours everyday as I worked on my choreography for Carmen. I was full of wonderfully creative ideas for my choreography and it almost became an obsession. I could think of nothing else, if I couldn't dance with my body I would be dancing in my imagination.
It was good at first but then something went wrong....the excitement and euphoria grew so much that I couldn't contain them anymore. My mind was getting so much speed it was getting impossible for me to control....help. "Ok it was fun for a while,now SLOW DOWN please!" Is what I would tell myself, but I genuinely did not know how to slow down. I begun having palpitations, being almost short of breath and in a constant sense of hurry. I took Lexotan drops in order to relax and did breathing exercises several times a day to no avail. Nothing seemed to work, nothing seemed to stop that thing that built up out of proportions.
March:
Real trouble begins as our new upstairs neighbours bring a 2 year old child with them that runs up and down our ceiling all day long.
It would try anyone's patience I guess, but for me it becomes a living Hell. That banging noise feels like a hammer inside my already overloaded brain. One morning I suddenly start feeling my legs shaking and my heart racing to the point of taking my breath away. I lose control, scream and bang to the ceiling with a broom in order to make them stop but the torture goes on. And on, and on to the point of madness. I rush to the park but it's too late now, the damage has been done and my mind is out of control. I do not know how to regain it.
I race back and forth the streets of the park screaming and shouting on the phone with my mum, threatening to kill myself. I curse, I cry, I blame God and anyone who contributed to me being alive in that moment. A violent rage shakes me to the core and it makes me wish I could inflict the same misery on them, the neighbours upstairs. No, not just them, the whole world, the whole humanity, for their indifference to my pain, for their judgemental attitude. An undescribable mixture of agony and desperation possesses me. I know what it is now, I know it's mania.
That's what I had to endure nearly everyday for the next week..... (to be continued)


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