Looking back on 2023 mostly brings happy thoughts. Our first year of marriage was fun, and we grew closer and more in love. However, I also know I was likely borderline depressed during a lot of it. Not a full depression at any point. I just didn’t have energy or motivation to do anything besides exist from day to day. I exercised to ensure I didn’t end up in a deeper depression. I didn’t read much. In my spare time, I mostly played on my phone and did absolutely nothing productive.
I got a new job in February. I did not realize how much energy my old job sucked from me. Now, five months into my new job, I am getting opportunities to write and show off some of my skills. It is a lot of fun.
About six weeks ago, I herniated a disc in my back. I wasn’t able to do any cardio or weight training for five weeks. I just started running with my dogs last Tuesday. I thought I was going to go crazy without my normal physical exertion. Thankfully, my sleep was not affected; although, I did seem to need more of it than normal.
Last Monday, we had pasta, which is a meal that will knock me on my butt and put me to sleep within an hour (I take my antipsychotic with dinner, and it is like a horse tranquilizer with certain meals). I woke up early for the first time in weeks and felt great. I decided to run with the dogs because my back felt strong enough to do so. I probably got seven hours of sleep. I felt amped and good on Tuesday.
All of last week, my nights looked like this: fall asleep right away, wake up every 1-2.5 hours, have trouble falling asleep after waking up, wake up sometime before 5:00 ready to go. And I felt rested. It’s hard to say my sleep has been poor because I feel energized and clearheaded in the mornings. Towards the end of the week, I was starting to spin. Thoughts were fast. Not too fast like with mania, but I was having trouble following trains of thought, and I felt like I was experiencing too many emotions all the time.
I felt on edge, particularly on Friday. Little, innocuous things my coworkers did irritated me. Everything irritated me. I love my job, and I am good at it. But sometimes I have days where I’m moody, and Friday fit the bill.
I slept a little better over the weekend. At least, I was able to sleep for longer stretches and felt a little more grounded in the mornings. But a sense of dread started on Saturday with some of the goings on in our country.
I spent most of Sunday alone. I cleaned. I edited for a friend. I talked to my sister. I was productive but still on edge. Something my husband said over text irritated me. I told myself I’d talk about it with him when he got home. I forgot. I unknowingly stewed on it for hours, and once again, little things began irritating me. I didn’t investigate. I just sat in my building anger.
Towards the end of dinner, I lost my temper about something stupid and tossed my bowl of mac and cheese in the air during a completely overblown impersonation of an impersonation my husband did of me. Before I tossed the mac and cheese everywhere, I saw white and lost control. My body had a mind of its own during my rage, and I resorted to throwing something.
This kind of rage has happened before. But not in at least two years, since meeting my husband. The most vivid memories of seeing white and throwing or slamming things are from high school. So, the behavior is not foreign or beyond me. But that doesn’t make it any less concerning—it almost makes it more so because I thought I was past raging about stupid things.
My husband and I both have tempers. Thankfully, he was too tired from his activities yesterday to retaliate or even get mad about my tantrum.
Grace is not something I grant myself easily. Although they are best described as flash in the pans, my rages the past few weeks have me rattled. I did not know I was still capable of them. In the past two or three years, I feel like I’ve really gotten a hold of my temper, and before now, I hadn’t lost my mind to anger in years.
Why now?
I texted my best friend this morning and asked if I could talk to her about what’s been going on. I processed through some of what I’m feeling and experiencing. My first thought is I’m self-sabotaging (another thing I haven’t done in a long time). Years ago, when I was in this kind of mood, I would start fights with this same friend. She didn’t put up with it, and I eventually learned that starting conflict for no reason was not acceptable.
I do not think these fights with my husband are as calculated as the ones I started with my friend. They’ve caught me unaware both times, and part of that might be I feel safe and comfortable with him, so some inhibitions are starting to fall away. I’m just not paying enough attention. I was probably hypomanic most of last week, and I didn’t do much to dispel or exhaust the mood. I haven’t felt like that in at least six months, maybe more (I cannot remember sustained hypomania at any point during our first year of marriage). Five days of high energy and possible hypomania? Unheard of.
Even when hypomania was a regular thing for me, it would last two to three days at most. This one is sustained, and it is starting to mess with me—of course, this is self-diagnosed (it’s possible I’m simply not depressed anymore and this is a different normal for me).
Except.
I’ve been in good moods that aren’t like this. I’ve been in productive moods that do not feel like this.
Hypomania always brings its pal irritability when it visits me. I haven’t had to deal with prolonged irritability in a long time. Usually, I would’ve crashed by now. The irritability is what makes me think this isn’t just me being depression free.
There are some great things about hypomania, but I would prefer calmer good moods to this. Hypomania is volatile.
So. I’ve been hypomanic for at least a week, and now I’m going into self-destruct mode and hurting the person I love the most. I haven’t done a good job directing or tiring all this unfettered energy, so I’m using it to destroy things. Or that’s my suspicion.
When I’m melancholy, I don’t have energy. When I’m going through a crisis, my energy is directed there.
No depression? No crisis? Well. I guess that means I should create something. I only realized this today. It hasn’t been a conscious decision.
I don’t know why else I’ve been so angry. Anger is secondary. But nothing is going on. My husband hasn’t changed anything. My job is great. My social life is pretty good.
I’ve been feeling an overwhelming sense of dread the past couple days. And I’ve had some mild thoughts about self-harm—particularly after my failure as a good wife last night. Nothing concrete. Probably just falling into old, familiar thought patterns. Now that I’m paying attention, I’m on mixed-state watch.
Mixed-states are awful. Hypomania, fine. Depression, okay, I’ll deal with it. Mixed-state? I loathe mixed-states. Despondent but with ideas and energy. It’s when the most suicides happen for people with bipolar disorder. I do not take them lightly.
So, maybe that is what’s next. Or maybe I’m already in one. That’s how it’s gone for me in the past. Hypomania to mixed-state to mild depression. I am used to the cycles being a little quicker, but of course, I haven’t been this hypomanic in a long time.
Even though I eventually figured out the pattern and cycle, mixed-states almost always sneak up on me—because they don’t happen every cycle. By the time I realize I’m in a bad way, it’s already too late.
My friend would probably tell me to give myself grace here, too. I know I cannot really control this illness I live with, but sometimes my willful blindness to my own emotions gets me in trouble, so here we are. I feel like I haven’t had to pay as close attention to things recently because it’s been pretty steady for a long time. Sure, I have bad days. But not like this. Not sustained like this.
My friend encouraged me to pick something to fixate on. Something to focus on so I can expend some of this excess mental energy. I’m doing rigorous exercise again, but so far, it isn’t doing anything to slow my mind down. I’m hoping some of this tumult is due to me not getting the exercise endorphins for so long and now my body is getting used to having them again. I don’t know. I am not a doctor. I’m hoping I find equilibrium soon.
I’ll probably focus on my writing and maybe reading. Two things I haven’t done enough of over the past year. I also probably need to be more intentional about getting solitude, which will serve my writing and reading interests.
I’ve apologized to my husband, and we are good. I probably do need some space to figure these things out. I know I can go to him with anything, and there’s no one else I’d rather do life with. I just have to ride whatever this is out and learn for the next time.
Don’t be too worried about me (this is directed mostly to my mom—hi, Mom). I’ll be fine. Just needed to process some of it in writing, which is usually when I do my best thinking.
Between Two Poles 