How The World Turns Out to Be So Different

Let me just say that this post may end up just being me venting about the manic days of my week. Who knows if anyone will find it interesting or at all educational (maybe in the sense that it will show my manic/depressive/hyper nature and how my mind thinks during that time).

I feel so strange. Stranger than I have felt in awhile. The Seroquel is helping; I know because I am not flipping every hour like I am in a psychosis. However, I do not know if my Bipolar has worsened, if that is even possible, or if something is aggravating it. At any rate I am definitely feeling other worldly if that is even comprehensible to you out there.

A few days ago I got that darker side of manic and felt so overwhelmed by sadness that indeed it turned to a depression. Crying watching a movie that is not even sad, thinking back to my earlier days which some I do regret. I get into those bouts where instead of being compulsive about some sort of information I really want to know I compulsively think about my past or what actions I have done that haunt me so on. Some of these actions I know can't be as bad as they play out in my head. For instance, I keep thinking about this dog my ex had given me- a Chihuahua and pug mix I named Hops. She was so rambunctious I had a hard time dealing with her. I never hit her or anything but I would just get so annoyed by the poor little thing. She would go hysterical when I would leave for work, so much so when I came home she somehow managed to get poop on the walls, deep into the carpet and on the furniture. It was like some sort of revenge for leaving to be able to pay bills and buy her damn food. She ended up having worms, and then she started becoming even more needy. I ended up deciding that the best thing to do was to take her to the APL and tell them I found her and that she needs to be put up for adoption. I must confess I did not want a dog at the time and it was my exes last ditch effort to somehow make me forgive him for being an asshole. They took Hops and she turned around and started crying as they walked her back to the vet. That very moment will probably haunt me for life. She had no idea what was going on and why I would abandon her. I just didn't have time to care for her and give her the attention she really wanted and I felt someone else would surely adopt her in no time and hopefully someone with kids that would constantly play with her. I know I did the right thing as I was like 19 and was dealing with mental illness not yet diagnosed. So I have no clue why it haunts me. Of course I feel bad for handing her off, as I had to do with another dog the same ex ended up buying- and he too haunts me- but he would destroy the house while I was gone - I mean like I would go to the store for 5 minutes come home and he would be chewing through the carpet. I had to give him up. You must be noticing that my ex never took the dogs though right. Just left them on the 19 year olds lap to handle. I wasn't ready for commitment like that. I guess I feel bad because I was attached to those dogs but I just couldn't take care of them the way they wanted- by that I mean 24/7 attention. I had to work, I had to go out to the stores, and I had to have some kind of life. But these are things I fixate on sometimes. Or other actions like taking dangerous risks not caring what the outcome might be- like doing disappearing acts while out with friends- hello that was not okay. But beyond that. I mean I would defend my one friend no matter what and she had gotten beat up in this dudes house by some girl and her boyfriend and when she got in my car so distraught of course the rage meter elevated (this is before I knew I was bipolar btw). I was so infuriated I ran up to that house and started kicking the door as hard as possible. I must have had the look of death in my eyes because the second the girl saw me she started crying and freaking out that I was 'going to kill her'- no but I did want to beat her to a pulp. A friend grabbed me from behind and I grabbed the railing kicked him as hard as I could in the shin and as I pulled the railing literally came up out of the cement. So like any typical rage monster that can't get into a house I threw it through the window. Right then I saw the red and blue and knew I had to get it together and get out of there. That girl was lucky that happened.

I told my friend to straighten her hair out and everyone pretend we were at grandmas. The cops (all five unit cars) stopped us and surrounded us. They asked us to get out and had a K-9 unit check my car- which was clean. They tell us there is a disturbance call at a known drug house- this was kind of a surprise to me I don't know that I would have gone so far if I had known it was a 'known drug house'. My friend stood there crying because she was so nervous and my other friend stood there like he was used to it (which I am actually sure he was because as a black American he probably got profiled all the time). I explained I was at my grandmother's house down the street delivering some I don't remember what and said I had no idea what they were talking about. Now this is the thing with bipolar- one minute you are raging out, to the point where you would do anything to get that rage out (me personally not ANYTHING, like I wouldn't kill someone or some crap like that) and the second you need to be not raged out because something is happening BOOM you are absolutely charming and manic so you have this thing about you, like you are narcissistic and think you are the best thing on earth- which is charming to some. The cop was not giving me a hard time at all but he then asked for my ID. I handed him my military ID explaining I didn't have my license on me - not true I did- he looked at it and called all the police off me and let us go. Which is why I lied I knew the second he saw the military ID we would be free to go (this was what a year into the war on terror).

Those aren't the only things I have done that were dumb. I have done plenty risky things. Whether it be speeding, too personal to share here, or starting arguments with people-which I was pretty good at and really should have been more careful. I fixate on all of it. I wonder why I would do those things, put myself in those positions, allow myself to be so careless. It is just something I think that comes with the territory of being Bipolar. No way around it sometimes. I would get paranoid people were staring at me, or talking about me, (in the context it wasn't that unlikely but I was still paranoid) and I would just freak out. I don't think I can explain it in words. But let's get to my last few days .

Yesterday I was just blah. Just like a piece of Jell-O that is warming and becoming weird. I was irritated beyond belief and had a panic attack over not finding a parking space _ really Lea! I got to class and just didn't really care. I was so engulfed in my irritability that I just zoned out for what seemed like several days. Time moved so slow. I got home and was just agitated and frustrated and wanted to be alone. I started reading a book I was excited about and got annoyed it wasn't what I thought it would be. Who know if I will finish it. I then got very upset because someone who will not be named took my blanket from when I was a child (which I compulsively sleep with) and put it in a nasty hamper so I was unable to sleep with it. You should have seen my reaction. I was super pissed I hate HATE when people touch certain things and then put it in a hamper and then don't clean it- well that is ridiculous to me because it is clearly something that is my sleep aide since it is everywhere I sleep at. It feels like a betrayal or like a cruel prank. DON"T TOUCH MY STUFF is what I kept saying to my husband, who was not the culprit. I am very meticulous about this kind of stuff. I was infuriated over a bonified baby blanket smelling like dirty socks because someone decided they needed to wash it and then didn't wash it. That was rude to me and an intrusion of my personal space. I don't care if I live in the same house as someone don't touch my things like that. Fine we do each others laundry -clothes and what notes- but don't touch that stuff on my bed. Don't touch things I put in specific places or I will be super heated, don't ignore something that needs attention bc that will anger me, and so many other things. No matter how many times I try to explain these things it seems some people don't hear me. I have friends that definitely don't. I have a mental illness, and I have compulsions and obsessions, and I have serious anxiety. If you consistently mess with my stuff  I will freak the fuck out like I did last night. I'm sure my husband was like oh geez here we go but to me it is an invasion on my personal way of living. I don't like it. 

I just don't think some people get what a mental illness entails and how easily I can be set off into a new mood. I put something in a specific area for a reason, you move it, I flip out alone and move it back, you move it again, I move it back--- why do you not see that I want it where I want it as it is my stuff so stop it. This has happened so many times and I get more angry each new time this occurs. JUST STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF> I don't touch yours .

Maybe I am being crazy to you but it's part of me.


Next day. I wake up today and I am in pain from the back, hip, and nerve issues and I feel even more untested because I did not have that silly blanket. The only reason I slept without it at all was because of my meds. If I hadn't had them I would have been awake all night and would have waited for the dryer to be done.  Any way, I procrastinate going to school because to be honest I feel too exhausted to want to go because of my hyper and anger episodes and today I just feel uppity and exhausted all at once. I have no rose colored glasses today, everything is very vivid and disturbingly detailed and I hate it. I am annoyed. I am angry. I am hyper, I am sad, and I am AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. That's what it feels like. My anxiety is through the roof so much so that while driving I had to take another Klonopin. And that annoyed me because the doctor only gave me 30 .5mg and guess what that doesn't really help when some panic attacks are worse than others and I need more than 1 .5mg pill. So 30 a month won't cut it at the rate this anxiety storm is at. It's either give me a higher dose so I can deal with the panic, or give me 60. I don't think some doctors realize that some people really do have panic attacks or bouts of bad anxiety daily that makes them want to puke everywhere or just die. Sorry it doesn't make sense to you but you can follow me around for a few days if you don't believe me. And then they say 'use it sparingly and only when needed' like yeah use it sparingly because you are under-treating me. HELP ME don't make me annoyed and scroll into a super manic mode because the anxiety triggers it.

Then today driving to school nothing looks real- or maybe nothing looks as it should or how I am used to and it isn't just the layer of snow that just fell. I am noticing things and details that I did NOT notice any other time- so for months these things have been unseen to me and now all the sudden boom here they are making things feel so unfamiliar. Guess what happens then? Oh yes I feel completely disoriented, like I am not a part of reality and I panic. What else is new. Sorry got to go to class.

To Be Continued.....

Lea