A head full of shit

I feel a bit strange and have done for a few weeks now. As I return back to my version of stability, which is really a level of instability that I can live with, I’ve become aware of, and am coming to terms with, certain things.

The first, and arguably most important, is that I’ve gone from being a predominately depressed person with manic depression to someone who has become predominately manic. Mania is supposed to lessen as you get older but I’ve never been one to follow all the rules.

Having spent quite a long time unstable last year which resulted from an attempt to stop taking medication (supervised not whim) I was acutely ill and on the point of it becoming chronic. Even when back on the full dose of my usual medication I realised that I wasn’t going to get stable without extra pills and that was, potentially, a problem. My GP needed input from a psychiatrist and I no longer see a psychiatrist so it looked like a referral back into the system was going to happen. This would have been a bit hit and miss depending on how urgent it was deemed so my GP rang the consultant that I’d seen for a decade and he agreed to do recommendations over the phone. This flexibility and bucking of the rules is what makes the NHS great. In a fee paying medical world the man would have had to forgo a fee,

I had noticed that I was feeling a greater lack of emotion that usual. This is not unusual with depression but not so with mania. It made me consider what was going on and, looking back, I have to accept that I can be cold and ruthless when it comes to people. I put it down to being an Alpha person and therefore I have a touch of the psychopath about me (25 on the Hare scale so a big touch) and that it’s something I try to rein in. On the odd occasion when I feel backed up against the wall and the person refuses to read signals that I’m not necessarily giving out I lash out big time.

I hadn’t cried for a long time and have since cried a little but, in a way, I want to wail in that almost animal way that hurts like a painful death but leaves me feeling empty and ready to move on. I also haven’t laughed a lot except with close friends and family. Sometimes the laugh is on my face and in my eyes but inside my head there is nothing. I rarely laugh at comedies or comedians and this puzzles me. Is it linked to manic depression or is it part of the suspected psychopathy?

There’s love too. I love people but it has never been an all consuming thing for me. I don’t love easily or readily so when I do it’s something that scares me. I get confused about what other people think about what happens when you love someone. I like my friends at a physical distance so that I can cope with emotional closeness. My last big relationship was with a man who lived 3.5 hours travelling time away and sometimes it felt far too close.

I’m rambling more than a little and whilst it makes some sort of sense to me I have the feeling people won’t get what I mean even though some people will say they do. This is my head and it’s not possible for anybody to get inside it and, even if they could, it’s not the kind of place you’d want to stay for very long.