Manic scumbag brain

It’s 2:23 a.m. I should be exhausted. I got four hours of sleep last night. Not gonna fare any better tonight. But the brain has gone hypomanic and it is racing and so many thoughts and ideas and coping mechanisms and…It’s just a flurry of brain activity right now, so many thoughts bouncing around…

This is not quite full blown mania or productive hypo mania. It’s just…semi-manic thinking processes. Round and round the brain goes, where it stops, no one knows.

I folded some clothes.

I dyed my gray roots.

I finished yet another book.

Started yet another book.

Am bored by said book.

Have this neat new mental coping thing, where I picture a red balloon that is deflated and I take all my swirling negative thoughts of all that stresses me out or pisses me off, and I just jam it all into the balloon and the balloon grows big and round…And I just let it go, watch it sail off into the sky, picturing it getting further and further away until I can no longer see it. Then I picture blue bricks and stack them into a pyramid with happy or calming thoughts. My kid, cats, books, tv shows, warm rain…

And it was going along swimmingly and I was starting to mellow out…And SMACK! The brain revives into scumbag mode and here I am, with all this mental activity and yet I know I need to sleep. Hell, I wanted to take a nap at 5pm but my kid wouldn’t have it. Now I am wide awake and the clock is ticking on her waking up and…

Red balloon. Bad thoughts. Bye Bye.

Enter good thoughts.

Why not enter sandman? I don’t want take a Trazzy D, it takes forever to peel the fucking cobwebs off my brain after taking even a small dose of that horse tranquilizer. Which is hysterical, since I used to have such bad insomnia, I was on 400 mg of Trazadone and 300 mg of Seroquel every night just to get to sleep. I slept, for 12-14 hours. Can’t do that now. Don’t want to do it now.

I also realized another thing. Since I stopped drinking…I have more energy, I am not damn lethargic and sleepy and grumpy. My memory is better. My moods are better. I don’t want to go to bed at 7pm and wallow in feeling low. How could something that brings such happy happy numbness and calm also be such a fucking downer? (That’s a joke, by the way, since ya know, alcohol is a depressant. Bygones!)

Oh, an Ally McBeal reference, I am going retro.

My brain is like an amusement park in full swing, all the rides going simultaneously, all the music and lights and crowds and games and noises and…

Red balloon.

Blue bricks.

I am big on the color trigger thing. I used to think it was bullshit. Like in the chat rooms when they said no red font because it triggered people who SI. I thought it was stupid.

Until I woke up with my house on fire 12 years ago.

Now the color red freaks me out as it is sort of the color of fire.

BUT the color blue makes me feel calm because my 1mg xanax tabs used to be pastel blue and they were wonderful and while my current lower dose is orange or yellow, I still consider blue the ultimate calm color. (Oh, wow, I only took 0.5 mg of xanax today instead of 1.5 mg, yeah, tell me I’m addicted.)

Am I making sense? Probably not. Probably a written cacophony. But this is mania, an accurate depiction. Of the good-ish manic episodes. The real manic periods are usually pretty mind blowingly awesome until you wake up the next day and have to deal with all the impulsive happy happy I-am-ten-feet-tall-and-bulletproof choices you made during your happy happy jag.

Hypomania doesn’t really have a downside except robbing you of sleep and making you kind of antsy. The productive hypo mania is the best, but that’s not happening right now. This is mental hyperactive mania.

No one is ever around for these spells, though. NOOOO, we can’t have anyone see me happy and energetic and in a positive frame of mind. No, scumbag brain has to be stressed or pissed off when around others so they think that’s all I am. But NOOO, I can damn well be happy fun ball sometimes.

On an unrelated to this post note, I ABSOLUTELY APOLOGIZE FOR FLOOD POSTING. Truth is, sometimes, I write these really long rant-y posts for myself, intending to save them to draft. Only then I see something shiny and my hand is clicking but eyes are watching shiny shiny and boom, it’s published instead of saved to draft and wow, I’m real sorry and I did entertain the notion of taking the extraneous ones down but then…Hey, I do this blog thing for me and it’s good to have a record of all the weird mental states I go through constantly. Nothing gives an accurate depiction of bipolar disorder better than a real time depiction of bipolar disorder.

Yes, I’m talking fast in written form. Mania mania mania.

I should do something to burn the energy.

I don’t want to though, I want to embrace all the ideas and thoughts in my head. I want to shampoo carpets this weekend, I want to rearrange furniture, I want to rewash all my laundry sorted by pants, shirts, socks, etc. I want to go to Salvation Army and Goodwill and some yard sales if it isn’t raining. I want to burn some cds. I want to have a water gun war with my kid and her friend. I want to check out more library books. I want to try writing again.

I want, I want, I want.

Bad brain. Overload. Brain will hurt later.

But sooo good not to be mentally lethargic, so good to have ideas and thoughts and hope and…

Hmm, this could appear like some form of hysteria, I suppose.

But it’s actually helping. My brain is bulimic. It binges on reality and bad stuff and good stuff and stress and calm and the petri dish and other people’s bullshit and more stress…

And then it throws it all up, onto the pages of this blog. Binge. Purge. Rinse lather repeat.

Welcome to bipolar.

 

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