Lingerie and Lithium: Flirting with Bipolar Hypersexuality

Your energy levels are high. Priorities and principles low. Attention causes your body to react. You have a sudden, hard hunger for human contact. Just about everyone in the place looks delicious. You feel as sexy as you look. And you’re ready to release your scent to the world.

Lingerie and Lithium: Flirting with Bipolar Hypersexuality

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You make eye contact with a woman across the bar, smile flirtatiously, then nonchalantly meet one another in a bathroom stall where you go at it like ravishing lady beasts. It’s hot. It’s risky. It satisfies you. For the moment. Minutes later, your attractive friend sends you a simple text, “Hey Beautiful”, in which you respond how you couldn’t get his sexy self out of your head all day. He’s intrigued. You say you may have a little something for him when you see him tomorrow. You have a physiological reaction to the anticipation. Later that night, since you barely ever sleep, you are adorned in nothing but one of the new lacy numbers you treated yourself to the day before. You logon to your iPad and an old crush sends a late night message. You tell her how adorable she looks in her profile picture and how you really miss that face. Then you send her a seductive selfie in your lingerie. You don’t notice that she becomes awkward and says she has to go. You’re so turned on by the song on your manic playlist and still high from the attention, not to mention how incredible your cleavage looked that night. You take care of yourself and practice self love for an hour and a half. You own battery operated sex gadgets, but just need to feel the connection with your own fingertips, where you appreciate your silky lace T-string. You hit the video record button on the iPad, just to have on hand in case you ‘need’ it. At the very least, you’ll watch it yourself. You are so electrically charged that your world of sex consumes you.

This might seem extreme to many. This might seem slutty to most.

What if I said this was day three in a seven day manic spree? What if I said there were at least four other prospects in this tangled web of lust?

What if I said excessive drinking, very little need for sleep, extravagant shopping sprees, craving stimulation, grandiose thoughts, and copious amounts of energy are also present at this time?

What Exactly is Hypersexuality in Bipolar Disorder?

Hypersexuality is a clinical diagnosis used by mental healthcare researchers and providers to describe extremely frequent or suddenly increased sexual urges or sexual activity. People who suffer from bipolar disorder may often display tremendous swings in sex drive depending on their mood. As defined in the DSM-IV-TR, hypersexuality can be a symptom of hypomania or mania in bipolar disorder or schizoaffective disorder.

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In other words, a person becomes overly horny. I know I get consumed by the thought of anything I remotely find to be sexual, that I force myself to take deep breaths and try to take a walk and cool down. I already have a pretty high libido normally, and I don’t shy away from risks. Oh and I should mention that I like a considerable amount of attention. These ingredients mixed with that hypersexual stage of mania can be a recipe for disaster.

Symptoms of Manic Hypersexuality

  1. Thinking obsessively about sex all day long.
  2. Feeling horny for no particular reason.
  3. Uncharacteristically having sex with both men and women.
  4. Not feeling in control over when and with whom to have sex with.
  5. Going out to the bar or social gathering every day to find hook-ups.
  6. Feeling overwhelmed by the urge of needing sex.
  7. Masturbating several times a day without the control to stop.
  8. Participating in group sex situations.
  9. Wearing uncharacteristically provocative clothing every day to any kind of location.
  10. Compulsively viewing a significant amount of porn movies, pornographic or sexy photos.
  11. When having sex, safe sex is hardly an option.
  12. Flirting with or trying to pick up your platonic friends.
  13. Excessive fantasizing about celebrities or crushes.
  14. Obsessing about exes or past flings and desiring a “last” hook-up.
  15. Every song you hear is interpreted as sexual, or else you only play sexy music.

Consequences of Manic Hypersexuality

  1. Cheating on your partner & possibly losing them.
  2. Susceptible to new and risky sex games.
  3. Vulnerable to people offering money or goods for sex.
  4. More susceptible to being offered jobs in the sex industry.
  5. Very sensitive to combining drugs and alcohol with sex.
  6. Feeling guilty for joining in on sex parties.
  7. Losing friends.
  8. Not being aware of any of the consequences your actions might have.
  9. Confused on the concept of right and wrong.
  10. Not being aware of possible sexual abuse.
  11. Losing complete track of time and place.
  12. Contracting sexually transmitted diseases.
  13. Risking to die of murder for being in dangerous environments.
  14. Needing years of therapy to cope with the guilt and shame later on.
  15. Finding it difficult to trust yourself or others again.

My Bipolar Boom Boom

Hypersexuality is something I have been plagued with. Or is it blessed with? I’m not going to lie, sometimes it’s hard to know. I love sex. I love lust. Anticipation. Flirting. The rapid heartbeat. Increased swelling and wetness in your skivvies. Yeah, I’m into all of it. I’m turned on just typing this. And I’m not even manic right now.

I discovered the idea of sexuality when I was very young. My parents watched the 80’s sitcom, “Three’s Company”, where the characters spoke nothing but cheesy lines and sexual innuendos. An articulate child, I picked up on the sexual energy of the show. Lacking the maturity to understand what I was indeed understanding, it sat in the back of my mind until I began interpreting radio songs, and insisting my mother watch daytime soap operas, so I could secretly observe the women with their hefty bosoms crammed into cheap looking lingerie.

In middle school, I got boobs before my friends. Feeling self conscious at first, I quickly discovered boobs get you places. And they get you attention. By seventh grade, I was wearing low cut tops and skin tight sweaters. In my mind I oozed sex appeal, and I liked it. I had many crushes, including the realization of my interest in females.

By my senior year of high school, I was exhibiting many bipolar symptoms, including full blown mania. Getting in trouble in school, running away from home, grandiose ideas, obsessions, and delusions were all forming. I was also exploring my interest in girls even more. I was infamous for going bra-less to school, or wearing little skirts with fishnet stockings. I felt sexy when I was on my periodic highs. (I also experienced a deal of depression in high school too.) I was experimenting with sexual fantasies, such as tying my girlfriend to my headboard, trying out sex toys, or sneaking lesbian erotica into choir class. I also masturbated ALL THE TIME.

By my 20’s, I was known for being wild. At various points I initiated group sex, attended fetish parties, and did erotic photography. I went into manic episodes often and my most severe, longest episode was when I was 22. I impulsively left my boyfriend of three years, quit my job, and cut my hair. I started hanging out with an ex girlfriend, with whom I immediately rekindled our old flame. Our usual chill spot was a local dive bar that eventually became my sanctuary. Shortly after, I reunited with another friend there, with whom I left girl 1 inside the bar so I could fuck this girl out in the car in the bar’s parking lot. I continued seeing girl 1 and girl 2 until girl 1 decided to get a girlfriend. She brought new girl up to the dive, and with very little effort, new girl went home with my number, met up the next day where we fucked for hours in the parking lot of a different bar, all the way until a police officer had to intervene. With little regard for girl 1, I now had myself girl 3, aka girl 1’s girlfriend. Because I was very manic, and not just horny, I suffered from psychosis as well. I truly had convictions that somebody put pheromone spray in the vents of the bar and were drugging all of us to the point of a mass turn on. Then again, I had other theories about cheese being the meaning of life, so my credibility is questionable there. Girl 3 and I hooked up in places other than cars. We got it on in the courtyard of the bar, at other people’s houses, bathroom stalls at clubs, Denny’s parking lot, and in most rooms of our homes. Girl 4 didn’t come until the end of that manic phase. An old high school crush I only got to make out with once at a party, I was thirsty for the opportunity to get in her pants. As if it wasn’t enough, when girls 1, 2, 3, 4 didn’t call me fast enough, I still occasionally got my rocks off with the ex boy. At this point I was exclusively with women, but I made the exception for function and familiarity.

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Why am I telling you all of this? Because with five different sex partners- often two in the same day- I was still starving for sex. In what little spare time I had, I would masturbate at least once a day. Wait- I always say I don’t masturbate, I have sex with myself. I dressed sexy, but not slutty. Makeup was always done. And I mastered the art of playing it cool. I only listened to music one could fuck to.

I was the poster child for manic hypersexuality.

I was also living life in the fast lane. Drinking, cocaine, getting kicked out of my college of choice, and fighting with my family were all consequences. I would wake up in the morning, being spooned by one of the girls, but have no recollection of which one I went home with. In my hungover haze, I would look around the room and try to put the pieces together. I broke more than a few hearts and lost some friends. I could have contracted an STD. And yet, I chose to be unmedicated.

Now, in my 30’s, life has been a bit different because I’m married. (And very medicated!) While I still get the heavy urges, I constantly find desperate ways to pacify my sexual appetite. I won’t lie, I have real crushes and often find it difficult to resist temptation. I flirt with friends who I know are deemed “safe”. I masturbate religiously. I enjoy lesbian porn, sexy music, and wearing revealing clothes. I tend to take more selfies during this phase. And I write fiction where my characters can do as they please, like little pawns in my steamy world. To an extent, my wife knows how I am. She came into my life overlapping the tail end of girls 1,2,3, and 4. While I’ve come close to infidelity, I tend to teeter on the edge, then by some saving grace, I pull myself back onto the side where I belong. Then within a couple of weeks, the episode dissipates. During these times I feel reckless. And I behave selfishly. My wife and I have had many fights and she knows when I’m crossing boundaries. The problem is, I don’t always know my boundaries.

Taming the Wild Animal Inside

If you are experiencing many of these symptoms and consequences of hypersexuality, then there is a likeliness that you may have bipolar disorder. I recommend seeing a psychiatrist or even a therapist to get started. You most likely need medication to treat the chemical imbalance.

Please note: this is different from a sex addiction. Manic hypersexuality comes as a symptom of mania or hypomania in bipolar disorder. If you experience these symptoms for more than short periods at a time, or if you don’t resolve to a healthy state of mind once treated, please consider getting help for addiction, or a sexual function issue. Now, it is possible for someone with bipolar to become addicted to sex, just as any other addiction. But please research the differences. I won’t spew the DSM at you.

If you are aware of your triggers and you are going trough a tough manic stage, try taking a cold shower, going for a run alone, attending a family function, or anything that would be considered the least stimulating. Attending bipolar support groups are great too.

Another option for those of you who are married or involved, be open with your partner about your hypersexual waves, and make the most of them. Together, I mean. Play with fantasies and take advantage of frequency. In a trusting, loving environment this could be a positive experience. Any non-communication could lead to resentment later on, or the feeling that one was taken advantage of during a time of illness.

Balance > Mania (Even if it doesn’t always seem that way)

Too much of a good thing can be bad for your health in more ways than one. I shared my personal experiences on this topic to hopefully help educate about real symptoms affecting the lives of many. Bipolar mania has many symptoms and hypersexuality is just one. And pretty much after any manic episode, despite the symptoms, comes a crash. Energy is drained and sleepiness or depression may creep in. The sexy beast may be replaced with a lack of libido. Finding a way to balance episodes is imperative.

Please share feedback. I’d love to pick your brain!

Sources:
Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll Mania. Bipolar Women and Hypersexuality
Personal experience & observation, along with undergrad studies
DSM-IV-TR & DSM V (Bipolar manic episode symptoms, hypersexuality)

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Alter Ego: A Poem About Piper, a.k.a. Manic Delusions

Alter Ego

Hey there siren, hey there again.
Without warning, how long has it been?

Hey there wild one, hey there storm.
Untamed whispers, in seamless form.

Hey there you, hey there Miss Thing.
Complete invasion, the chaos you bring.

She wears me out,
She breaks me down.
When Piper calls,
I come around.
She lures me in,
Without a sound.
I lust for her,
And we are bound.

Hey there lil nympho, hey there alright.
Pheromone syrup, smothered all night.

Hey there electricity, hey there alive.
Inexpressible hype, off the high dive.

Hey there obsession, hey there crave.
Euphoria spree, you won’t ever behave.

She wears me out,
She breaks me down.
When Piper calls,
I come around.
She lures me in,
Without a sound.
I lust for her,
And we are bound.

Hey there liberty, hey there Queen Bee.
Envied butterfly, perpetual and free.

Hey there persuasion, hey there yearn.
Thick addiction, never to learn.

Hey there enigma, hey there silhouette.
Delicious delusion, you’ll soon regret.

She wears me out,
She breaks me down.
When Piper calls,
I come around.
She lures me in,
Without a sound.
I lust for her,
And we are bound.

Piper

Death & the Swinging Mood: Grieving When You Have Bipolar

Losing someone you love is one of the hardest things a person can go through. But what if you have bipolar disorder? Death affects people with mood disorders in different ways. I lost someone very close to me this past week, along with others since I began this blog, which is why I want to touch on some important elements of grieving when you have a mood disorder.

Emotions + Stress = Trigger Central
Normally people go through five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Of course there are variances for everyone, and not every person follows the textbook definition of how to be in each stage. Usually, in healthy-minded folks, they kind of just run their course naturally.

Someone with a mental illness, specifically a mood disorder such as bipolar (or unipolar depression), may experience certain stages more intensely or much longer than average, causing triggers, which lead to an episode or bipolar symptoms. Severe depression, irritability, irrational thinking/behavior, drug/alcohol abuse, and suicidal tendencies are some common symptoms triggered by death.

I know I mentioned in past posts that I often struggle with suicidal ideation. A little over a year ago I was triggered by a funeral I attended, which you can read about here, and I utilized certain tricks to push those thoughts from my mind. I recall also having this experience at a friend’s funeral a few years back. I was actually in the middle of perfecting a plan to take my own life when I received news of my friend’s overdose. That triggered me and my suicidal ideation sky-rocketed. Side note: I am currently in remission from suicidal feelings 🙂

The Funeral Mania Phenomenon
Funeral mania?! Yes. What the hell is it? Funeral mania when someone’s reaction to a death or a funeral is a manic episode occurring instantly or within a week of bereavement. This term can also be applied to those who become manic when a loved one is dying and has a very short time left. Funeral mania is a rare occurrence, and can be uncomfortable for the person experiencing it.

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I have absolutely experienced funeral mania. In fact, I almost became relieved when I read that this is a real thing. Four and a half years ago, my father was on Hospice, and I lost my shit. I was his caretaker during his last two months of life. Closer to the end, I never slept. I spent hours at his empty apartment organizing books, scrubbing ceiling fans, and perfecting the entire place before he had to turn the keys in. And when I did make the 45 minute drive to my own house, I still didn’t rest. I baked cakes. I reorganized my own basement. I moved everything from his apartment into my basement. At 3:00 in the morning. I went nonstop from a good week before his death, until I finally crashed more than a week after his death. I was 27, married, working, and in college. My dad’s death sent me soaring. I don’t remember crying once.

My cousin died two years ago, from cancer she had been hiding. She was only 44 years old. At this time, I was already struggling to find stability, and had recently experienced a severe mixed episode. I was freshly on my current med cocktail and I know my body wasn’t fully acclimated to it yet. Her death produced surges of adrenaline and a strong need to help with funeral planning. I camped out at my grandparents’ house for three days and didn’t sleep a wink. We have a large Italian family, and their house has always been the primary meeting spot. I thrived in the chaos. Every song that played, every old photo, every out of town aunt or cousin, I soaked it up. The food tasted so much better than food should taste. The fall air carried a fragrance like no other. I remember never feeling so alive.

If funeral mania sounds crazy to you, count yourself lucky. If you’re reading this, thinking that finally someone understands. Please know you are not alone! And that it is okay. I assume you already know that any time a manic or depressed episode linger around, it is best to talk to your doctor.

Too “stabilized” to feel?
As we know, mood stabilizers work hard to prevent you from sinking to Hades or flying above the clouds. Rather, you are functioning afloat this coveted baseline- not too happy, not too sad. I take my meds each day and night to achieve this. Therefore, I am stable, but never really too happy or too sad. This is fine for me. Until BOOM! Life thwarts my plans and my dear loved one dies. I am sad. I am very, very sad. I know that I am sad. But dammit, I cannot feel the level of sad that I need to be in order to feel better. It is beyond frustrating. Of course I attempted to use this as a reason to stop taking Lithium, and I presented my argument to my wife/med manager. She helped bring a little clarity on the subject, and while it really sucks to not have the ability to dip down super low, at least I know I can get through this without uprooting the safe stability I’ve worked to achieve.

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Hopefully this gave you guys a little bit of perspective. I think I needed to write it as part of my current grieving process. 

Interview with Nectar Madness

Hey everyone, a little while ago I did an interview for ‘My Bipolar Roller Coaster’ about my bipolar disorder diagnosis, and my experiences with the illness. If you want to know more about yours truly, check it out. Also, check out this awesome mental health blog.

Running Amok with Both Feet on the Ground

I tried to write yesterday on my train ride home, but my hangover wouldn’t allow it. Other than that, Chicago was really fun and it was great to see my friend. I got over my risky sense of adventure and complied with my medications. Well, that, and my friend apparently took notes from my wife, and insisted on med checks each morning and night. In a way it is kind of nice to have a friend respect my bipolar, and care enough to not let me get off balance. Personally, I also think she was afraid if I did become manic or do something regrettable, my wife would never be comfortable with me visiting her again. But that’s just speculation.

As you recall from my last post, I was teetering on the edge of mania. The excited flutters were on speed, and I was feeling more alive than ever. It was interesting to have such a sense of freedom away from home. My wife tends to be pretty strict on me because of my bipolar. I certainly don’t regard her as controlling or bossy, so don’t think that. But she helps me stay on track, refrain from heavy intoxication, and avoid over-stimulation, which leads to episodes. Traveling alone out of state for four days is definitely a situation that stimulates. Activities we partook in included attending an epic Tegan and Sara concert (my obsession), shopping in Boystown, chowing on sushi, playing downtown, and having a few beers. I was careful to not over-indulge. I was careful to not test boundary limits with my friend. I was careful to call home when I could. I was careful to spend wisely. Slow and steady.

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I did experience an incredible surge of energy while on my trip. The feeling literally led me to be really physical and run amok in the park downtown. I know for a fact my friend thinks I’m crazy. And I love it.

Linda is the name of the elderly liberal I made friends with on the train ride home. I’m not sure, but I think she could be a lesbian. She was a joy to converse with, in between book and iPod sessions, for those six hours. I even hugged her after I helped her with her luggage upon her departure.

It is nice to be home. I missed my wife and my son. I appreciate that she is comfortable with me having adventures. I know she understands how bored I can get. If I am not given playtime, I end up finding it. And that usually means finding trouble.

Thanks for following my little story. It was a bit of an accomplishment to remain balanced this week.

All Aboard the Manic Train!

The train horn induces an ear-to-ear grin type of euphoria. Maybe it’s the heat with the sun shining the brightest it’s ever been. Maybe it’s the Tegan and Sara I’ve been playing on repeat for days. Maybe it’s because I will attend their concert in less than 24 hours. Maybe it’s because this is my first time traveling alone. Maybe I’m just excited to see my good friend and stay in her Chicago apartment.

(Side note: I ‘met’ this friend during a slightly manic phase about four years ago. Actually, I anonymously sought her out online because I liked the way she looked and thought she seemed cool. I randomly sent her a friend request. She surprisingly accepted. I initiated conversation until she eventually let me in. Exchanged numbers and life stories. And we’ve officially met in person twice now. Today will be number three.)

What caused this mental tickle to develop may be a combination of all the above. I don’t know. But I do know that I keep singing aloud on this hushed locomotive. I’ve also laughed aloud a few times. I just feel so amazing! I truly have so much excitement in my little self that I may explode! I am absolutely in love with everything and everyone right now.

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I don’t know if I should be taking notes on these incredible feelings. I kind of want to say fuck it, and just allow myself to really feel everything. Either way, I’ll check in at some point.

Saying it Aloud Makes it Real

Apparently I’m fighting mania. Apparently I didn’t realize this until I talked about it. Apparently.

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I knew a few factors were surfacing, but I didn’t realize just how many signs of mania were actually present in my life until I shared my current state at my DBSA support group meeting last night.

Let’s begin by examining the facts – the manic stuff.

  1. It’s Spring. My witching season. Well, the start of it anyway. Summer is equally lethal. Warm weather heats my blood something good.
  2. I’m suffering from chronic boredom. Bored with work. Bored socializing. Bored at home. Bored in my marriage.
  3. I’m overstimulating in order to combat the boredom. Drinking. Music. A dozen social networks. Heavy involvement with friends.
  4. Becoming hypersexual. Collecting new erotic photography. Flirting. More self-stimulation than usual.
  5. Planning. I’m planning a mini vacation by myself next month to stay with a friend and attend my favorite band in concert. Okay- my obsession in concert. Which brings me to number 6.
  6. I can’t help the obsessions. Tegan and Sara have been my loves for over a decade. I can’t get enough. Literally. I’m also obsessing over my marriage. And the lack of sex.
  7. My mind is racing. I struggle to focus at work. My ideas are flying around. I’m quite forgetful.
  8. Irritability. I’m moody and irritable. I seem to get annoyed easily with customers. And traffic. And television. And a few acquaintances.
  9. Fleeting desire to skip meds. I don’t want them. I don’t like them. So there.
  10. Spending money. My wife is our financial manager, but I have managed to find an unusual amount of reasons to need money lately.

Let’s examine things further – the not so manic stuff.

  1. I am indeed still taking the meds. I toy with the idea of stopping. Regardless of those thoughts, I comply with treatment. My wife is mostly to thank for this.
  2. I have a job. And I go to it. Every day. On time. It’s often difficult to function with a spinning head and chronic restlessness. But I’m there.
  3. I take excellent care of my son. For some reason, this part really works for me. He’s healthy. He’s happy. He’s dressed, changed, fed, and snuggled. I manage to drop him off at my sister’s every morning. It’s a miracle, maybe.
  4. I’m not as bad as I’ve been. Maybe the meds are preventing me from falling into full-blown mania.

What is my next step? Well, that is a good question because I am conflicted. Right now I am incredibly tempted to succumb to the manic triggers that pacify my boredom. I flashback to last summer- too much booze, too much pot, too much fraternizing for a married woman, never needing sleep, and rounds of fighting with my wife. I look at how things are right now and I’m not where I was last year.

Am I heading there? I guess I can’t say for sure. I will try to vow to stay on the meds in order to prevent it. My psychiatrist already doubled my Seroquel to balance me out. The fact that I really am chronically bored and I crave excitement may be what drives my actions. It’s a vulnerable thing to feel so unpredictable.

 

The Time My Mania Impulsively Bought A Hot Rod

I was nineteen and in the early years of my bipolar diagnosis. I was old enough to know better and young enough not to care. And I was manic. I held a part time job, went to community college, and drove a perfectly fine car for a young person. But I was bored. I was always bored. I stumbled across a photo of a bad ass hot rod in the paper, and decided I had to have it. This vehicle was a Cougar with custom leather seats, bright blue velour upholstery, custom airbrush graphics of skulls on the interior panels, under carriage lights, a chrome skull on the grill, and was lowered two inches. This tinted-window beauty was a retired show car, also the winner of over fifteen trophies, and named ‘Car of the year’ by Hot Rod Magazine. Amid the purple and blue flames on the body, was a tiny grim reaper, and beside him read the air brushed slogan “Evil shouldn’t look this good”. The name of the car was also printed on the back, “Wicked”.  I know it sounds cheesy as hell. But back in the day, it was hot.

I immediately drove the hour to Wicked’s home, and took her for a long test drive. The sound system was kickin; the breeze in my hair. I fell in love with the chrome rims and skull shaped shifter. The owner even threw in a matching lighter.

Boom. I handed him a fat wad of cash. It was everything I had won from a lawsuit the previous year, probably in savings for a reason. But who cares?  Wicked was mine!

I drove her home, feeling the biggest rush. I could sense everyone on the road looking in my direction. This car was hot. It made me hot.

When I showed my mother, whom I was sharing an apartment with at the time, she was in shock. She reminded me that I already had a car and didn’t need two. She couldn’t believe I’d spent all my money. While she made an effort to be happy for me, looking back, I can see she was uncertain it was the best idea.

I was in love with the attention I got. This was exactly what I needed to fuel my manic high. There was no other vehicle like this on the road. I was unique. And very grandiose.

I landed myself a fair share of tickets over time. It got backed into once, causing some damage. It had also been broken into on multiple occasions. The car was even stolen once, but oddly, I found it myself. While Wicked was beautiful (and the exact drug i needed), I wasn’t able to take proper care of her and ended up selling her to a drunk guy in the dark.

Have you ever made an impulsively large purchase while manic? 

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Not in the Mood for a Mood Disorder Right Now

I am losing it. I cannot focus on anything, I’m irritable, I’m restless, and my mind feels like it’s traveling in circles at super speeds. I’m disinterested in my work and I’m mean to my wife. With each moment that I try to function normally, I seem to feel worse. My moods are up and down. I really wasn’t prepared for brain chaos right now. I’m even more pissed off that I’m dealing with this altogether. I’ve been enduring a plethora of change lately, including the season changing, and I tend to experience mood swings when things change. I mentioned this in a previous post.  I should call my psychiatrist, but of course, I’m reluctant. I don’t want more medication. I realize my reluctance is a symptom. My immaturity is waiting for my wife to push me to see him. I’m ashamed of my immaturity because it highlights my lack of responsibility. I hate myself because I was so stable these past several months. I don’t know why I think I can control when things get out of whack. I understand I can only treat it. Each night I go to bed and think tomorrow it will go away, but it hasn’t yet.

Reminiscing One Year Mania-Free

What’s in a year? How about a significant time dedicated to replenishing? Recovery? Rebirth? I bring this up because I look back to this time last year when I was, well, manic. I remember the chaos in my head, the insane amount of energy, the obsessing over music, the delusional ideas, and the fights with my wife. I reflect on the irritability and agitation. Conversely, I reminisce on the indescribable feeling of being alive. That’s the part that really gets me. When I begin to reminisce on my mania (a.k.a. Piper- my alter ego). It’s easy to forget how taxing it can be on the body, or about the crying spells that come out of nowhere, or, in my mixed state, experience intense dark and suicidal thoughts. Instead I get a warm, nostalgic sensation and I begin to miss it a little. My mania draws out my alter ego, Piper, and allows a bonding experience. I felt songs differently, smelled the air differently, and sensed things in a different way. It’s so easy to forget the bad when it comes to thinking of the manic episodes. I admit I’m a little sad this year without my mania and a little part of me will always miss those chaotic days. But I am much healthier and happier now, so of course I wouldn’t trade my state of being today for my manic-mixed state of last October.

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Hypomanic Denial? Or Do I Need A Clue?

It’s possible that I’m falling ahead of myself and stumbling, scraping my own dumb forehead in the process. My wife feels my recent behaviors have triggered hypomania, resulting in her fear of full blown mania. Is she correct? I don’t know, really. You could say it all started when I self-righteously decided to participate in alcohol related activities after a five year drinking hiatus. Not one drop of liquid intoxication for just over five years. Until now. About two months ago I had a drink, socially, with friends. It filled me with warm nostalgia, and a license to cut loose. I don’t know if this has anything to do with my changed view on life, or my desire to “live it up” before the baby gets here, but I know that I feel good. I have been a lot more social with my group of friends as well. Admittedly, I have gone out multiple nights in a row, on a few occasions. I also made the mistake of staying out until 5am. More than once. Okay, not my finest moments… But I want to take up every opportunity to have fun before we will be consumed with diapers and midnight feedings. I don’t think this constitutes as hypo anything. I usually listen to my wife’s observations and concerns, but I don’t feel as energetic as she says I am. I don’t see the downward spiral she sees. I see myself living up my last child-less summer. Am I selfish? Am I in denial?

I look at some main triggers of hypomania, and they include: drinking alcohol or using mind-altering drugs, taking a trip, major change or life event, over-stimulation and excitement, overall restlessness or boredom, excessive noise or partying. Examining these triggers makes me wonder if my wife has a point. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t describe my life as of lately. I just returned from a trip, I’m attending two music concerts tomorrow, I’ve been drinking with my friends, and to top it off, I have an out of town friend, whom I met online, coming to meet me this weekend for the first time. I’ve completely screwed up my friendship with my best friend, and I allowed my irresponsibility get the best of me two days ago, as I hurt my wife’s feelings in unexplainable ways. I suppose I’m moving fast and fucking up, but I feel fine, I don’t feel manic!

Mania is what I know. The racing thoughts, pressured speech, the euphoria, the hyper-sexuality, the larger than life ideals and philosophies, the grandiosity, delusions, and obsessions. This is not mania. This is living. Isn’t it? Am I naive to my own existence?    

Well Hello There, Anxiety!

I welcomed this day wearing a smothering jacket of anxiety, accessorized with a shiny ball of nerves. It’s like I suddenly have so much on my mind that I am experiencing physiological reactions that include chest tightness and shallow breathing, on top of my severe distractability and a racing mind. A few days ago I mentioned that my wife and I are going on a road trip later this week. Despite my list of travel tips, (https://nectarmadness.wordpress.com/2013/06/27/travel-tips-for-bipolar-disorder/) I still feel unprepared. And I don’t think it’s so much that I’m unprepared for the trip itself- I mean I refilled my Lithium, I did a load of laundry, and I have directions. But it’s more an overwhelming feeling of tying up loose ends before we leave. My list of unimportant things that are sickening me with importance. Yeah those. For instance I recently got a brand new camera. (Little known fact: photography was one of my biggest hobbies, prior to a depression-induced hiatus that lasted for 10 years.) Now, I’ve been thrilled about releasing the ol’ shutterbug and cranking out something to put me back on the map. The thing is, I have no idea how to turn the fucking thing on! Sure there’s a DVD, there’s a booklet and online support. I get it. I haven’t had time to even charge up the battery until last night. I don’t have five minutes to dedicate to learning how this thing works and I am expected to bring it with me on the trip where I will be greeted by my family full of photographers. My first shoot back is going to be in the scenic oasis of beautiful, lush Kentucky. It’s stressing me the fuck out.

While I might sound crazy, we have to remember that I’m already getting triggered by the mere fact I’m going on a trip. Add in the overwhelming surplus of people who are also going on the trip. These people are family members who we don’t see very often, which is as unnerving as it is exciting. I’m also a little anxious about announcing our pregnancy to the cousins we don’t see but every handful of years. While I try to not let things like stereotyping and closed-mindedness enter my aura, I do have some family members who swing a little more conservatively, so I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t affect me a little.

While I’m on my anxiety tangent (I’d be shocked if anyone actually reads this entry!), I’m also coming off a recent high that I experienced over the weekend. And that is a surprise birthday party thrown for me by my amazing friends. My birthday is on the 7th and since I won’t be home, they threw it for me this past Sunday. I’m not one to really like surprises, but I managed to keep it together absolutely fine. I guess the biggest aftermath of the party I’m busy contemplating is the fact so many people showed up! I really would’ve never thought so many people really like me! I’m as gracious as I am overwhelmed. I do think my behavior got a little out of control later that night, and I am feeling anxious, today, about the level of intoxication I managed to get to. I feel guilty and uncomfortable about that part. Impulse control isn’t my strongest trait. Anyway, I’ll move past it. The party was such a wonderful surprise that I’m still glowing from it!

Now, with so much buzzing around inside my head, what I need to do is continue to work on my to-do list, pack up all that I’m bringing, and straight up get my shit together already! I’m convinced once we’re on the road I will calm down by at least 8 notches. If I ever get there.

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My Not So Mental Health Day

Maybe it’s because I went to bed at 2 AM, maybe it’s the 4 mind-numbing hours of Tegan and Sara videos I watched, maybe it was the weed, the six cups of coffee, the humidity, or the moon. I don’t fucking know. All I know is when I woke up this morning, my first thought was to take a personal day. I never do that. But all I could think was that I had laundry to do. And vacuuming. And scripts to call in, mail to sort, and whatever busy thing I could think of. Not to mention the gnawing fact I really need to start jogging to work off this pseudo baby weight I’ve acquired since my wife became pregnant. Clearly I had a full day ahead of me. Mostly I woke up excited to listen to the music I added to my iPod around 1 in the morning. I’m lying. I woke up utterly obsessed with the songs on my iPod. In fact that’s what I really wanted to do today. It’s embarrassing, but I get extremely lost in my head sometimes when it comes to certain music. I try to hide when I go into obsessive phases. I also know obsessions coincide with hypomania with me, sometimes triggering full blown mania. At this time I am fine. As long as my ears don’t have to go without the syrupy melody of what I love most.

I have a hard time admitting when I’m being obsessive because my father was an obsessive individual, he also was compulsive with his obsessions, resulting in compromised living situations in his latter years, when it was most out of control. I think his problem has created a weariness in my own self-monitoring. I don’t want to fall into his footsteps. As of now, I secretly listen to the same song several times throughout the day. Music gives me permission to get lost in my head. Getting carried away by that kind of mental liberation is like crack. I love the feeling, I crave it, I need it. When I remove myself from myself, and enter my mind, it produces a sort of euphoric effect. No joke. This may sound crazy, but it’s really quite beautiful.

Anyway, my wife reminded me of the fact we need money, so I went to work, and attempted to have a normal day. Okay- normal didn’t happen. Thankfully I work in an office alone, so my music accompanies me on a daily basis. This helps me remain in a good mood and keeps my energy flowing. However, my biggest problem today was severe distraction. As busy as my mind was when I woke up, it only worsened as the morning progressed. I got fucking nothing done today! I did, however, play the same 22 songs incessantly for 8 hours. I kind of feel like I’m floating a little bit, and I’m blissfully unaware of anything going on around me.

Today

Today
Today I feel like a star,
Today I’m more alive than ever.
This time I know I’ll get far,
It’s time to show them my clever.
Today my mind is sound,
Today I manipulate the waves.
Upon me is a new sense of found,
Clothe me in fragments that saved.
Today I dress up the world,
Today I invest in my heart.
I am no longer a tortured girl,
It is no longer backward from start.
Today my blood is hot,
Today I depend on my fire.
An action shows what you’ve got,
Reaction will lead to desire.
Today the sun bathes my skin,
Today electricity swallows my veins.
I thirst for the notion to begin,
I absorb these emotions, wild and strange.

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