…is you still crave mania. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss the crushing depression. And I fully understand that the strength of the manic episode dictates the strength of the ensuing depression. And I totally get it that mania freaks other people out and alienates them which makes normal life pretty tough because everyone thinks you’re a spaz.
But man oh man…I miss the mental circus. The invulnerability, the creativity and color, the productivity, the charm, the release. And yes, I lied–I miss the familiarity of the dark and tortured places depression would take me. But I know it’s best to keep it locked up and stay mediocre. For the rest of my unnatural life. Ah, look! It’s my old pal, ‘self loathing’! Gotta go.
CBT is cognitive behavior therapy. Not sure exactly how it works, as I take medication for my bipolar…ism.
And I have to say: No, I do not miss the mania. I feel more organized now. Sure, I’m not going to work for 20 hours straight and get a hundred things accomplished, but I am not going to mope around getting nothing done for days on end, either. I don’t think of it as being mediocre. I think of it as balance, and I have come to value that very highly.
Have you read Marya Hornbacher’s books? She had untreated bipolar for years, and even after she was on medication for it she sabotaged herself by drinking. She said she really liked the manic periods.
Intellectually I know I’m on the correct path and am at my best overall when I don’t give in to the mood tugs and work through the triggers. So intellectually I agree with that.
But don’t you miss…I dunno…the scope of contrast? I know, the panic and despair can be unpleasant, but don’t you ever get bored? For me it’s like having a Bugatti Veyron in the garage and always choosing to drive the '84 Corolla. I know if I drive the supercar I’m going to get some tickets and probably wreck it in spectacular fashion, but my heart will be beating the whole time.
QC: never read her, but I do get the allure of alcohol–it serves so many purposes at the same time! yeah…so I don’t abuse it the way I desparately want to.
Since you’re doing CBT, you are probably familiar with cognitive distortions. Would it be more accurate to say you have the car from the Stephen King book “Christine” in the garage, and you’re driving a nice, reliable, family sedan?
Oh I’m sure we could do chapters about delusion and what perspective does to reality: from where I stand, it’s a Bugatti. When I’m driving, it’s a Bugatti to me but others see Christine. And when it crashes and I get out, I see Christine and wonder to myself how the car changed while I was in it the whole time. Delusions are horrible when they end and you can look back and see what you did in response to misperceiving something. But before that there is joy, confidence, a sense of meaning.
The alternative is to nip the delusion as soon as it starts, by sternly reminding your brain you ain’t all that, you’re just this guy who has this job and these responsibilities and these realistic abilities; and that dreaming, planning and trying to improve all lead too easily into the over-painted technicolor landscape that will fall apart only after it’s lifted you to magnificence and drop you into the rubble that was your life that you’ve already rebuilt from rubble. As wretched as the fall can be, it’s still hard to resist taking the ride when the opportunity presents itself.
I don’t want to be harsh, I have a family member who has bipolar and when she is manic she only thinks she is doing amazing things and having fabulous insights. In reality she is talking complete gibberish (speckled with heartbreaking moments of lucidity) and physically self-destructing.
If CBT leads you to making more serious posts, I’m all for it!
In all seriousness, I think it’d be fine not to medicate if you were the only person affected by your bipolarity on a regular basis (if you were a lonely starving artist/poet and it gave you inspiration, or whatever). But if you have a partner and/or kids (or a pet) to take care of and be nice to, or you tend to verbally abuse coworkers when you’re depressed or manic, you owe it to them to be “normal.” Predictability may seem boring when you aren’t used to it as your baseline, but unpredictable people are fucking hell for the rest of us to deal with. Ya jerk.*
Funny, it’s the opposite for me. I intellectually know that I should miss the crazy highs and lows and the bursts of trancendental creativity and the wallowing in misery, because it was all so exciting, right?
But I don’t. I totally don’t. I like being able to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about melting down and yelling at someone for no reason during the day or having an hours-long conversation with a friend where I do nothing but self-pity. I like being able to get motivated and go out and do something anytime I want to. And I like being able the channel my energy into what I decide, not whatever is shiny at the moment.
Well geez, Necros, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound like any fun at all. Now stuff a sock in it because you’re digging in the places in my mental yard where I’ve buried some memories. Just let them rest, we don’t have to talk about them, I’ll let it go.
Since anecdotes and advice on medical and psychological issues go in IMHO, I’ll move this thither.
And, as the daughter of a bipolar mother who went untreated until I was in college – thanks to those of you who are doing something to control your disorder. And, yes, it’s a dis-order.
Oh yeah, sometimes I miss my old disorder too (and mine didn’t even involve highs!). I think a lot of people do. Not only is it familiar and predictable, it’s like candy. Never mind the stomach ache afterward, it tastes better than my healthy steak and peas. But over time I’ve come to appreciate a good steak, and just a little candy is enough to remind me why I don’t go that route any more. Metaphorically speaking. It’s bizzare, but it’s a normal feeling, and it does get better.
(From what you said it doesn’t sound like you’re on medication, but for some people some medications end up turning them into zombies rather than moderating the extreme swings. That isn’t the desired effect, so if you’re worried about it it’s well worth discussing with whoever’s overseeing your care. You’re still supposed to have stuff you get excited about and care about.)
I second this. Another bipolar body here, and my life is very much divided into two segments: pre-diagnosis without medication, and post diagnosis with medication. The latter is many orders of magnitude better, as I’m in control of it for one thing.
I understand what you’re saying about the mania Inigo, but you have to appreciate that what you’re essentially saying is you miss the thrill of being high, and the fact that it’s a naturally induced high from your own body chemistry doesn’t make that any different from someone who has a substance abuse problem saying they miss being high. Yes, of course you do, it makes life feel amazing, and eventually it reaches a point where it’s not about feeling good but the rest of the time not feeling bad. But it’s artificial, and who you are in that mania is not a real person, only a part of your personality magnified to an unhealthy degree.
I’d far far rather have my routine, ordinary life where I get to decide what I’m doing rather than my brain chemistry, rather than tearing through friendships, my job and requiring my family to care for me because I’m flying the dragon again. If you’re still feeling like you want the mania then I contend that you don’t fully accept that your disorder is a problem, or that the effect it has on you is a negative one. Possibly a therapist could help you with this, but like any addict if you don’t accept there’s something wrong or that you need to change, nothing will.
I think the addiction metaphor sounds right. Any smoker I’ve talked to has a story along the lines of, “I quit after 20 years. I’ve not smoked in 10 years and not a day goes by I don’t want a cigarette.” It’s like that with me, really. Yes I miss the ride, and yes I accept it’s a destructive disorder and so I keep it in check and do not seriously contemplate blooming a mania even just this once. I’m just crying because the tight rope I have to walk on is so narrow and feels so unnatural. I’ll stay on it because I know I have to. But I don’t particularly like it. I feel like I’m playing a part as opposed to just being me.
Which is why I suggested speaking to a therapist rather than using CBT - my arriving at the very peaceful and happy state I’m now in is in part due to the drugs and part due to the therapy journey I went down at the same time. I don’t think I’d be where I am if I was just necking drugs, or if I’d just spoken to a counsellor. For what it’s worth I’m very dubious about the ability of CBT to affect something as radical as a neurochemical imbalance, and it doesn’t sound like it’s giving you what you need.
If you need support we’re here for you - PM me if you want to talk more.
No derision intended, but do you miss the ultra high-risk behavior and out-of-control spending sprees often associtated with mania? This from one who’s been there just a few times.
All I’m saying is I miss the rush of being there, not that I miss the aftermath.