I’ve been manic for a few weeks now but, as usual, didn’t see the signs until it was too late to do anything about it.
I don’t recognise the signs when they begin to appear and nor do I recognise the signs of depression when they start creeping in. I have a kind of memory loss I suppose that hides the indicators from me and can get me into all sorts of trouble.
Mania, especially when I am ultradian cycling, can be vicious and those are the days that I sincerely want to die. I want to commit suicide (don’t pick me up on my use of the word suicide, it’s my blog and my words) and I have to talk myself out of it.
I always self harm because it feels like it’s the only thing I can do to ease the pressure. Try putting a piece of sellotape on an inflated balloon and then sticking a pin through it. It will deflate slowly and gently and that’s what the self harm does to me.
I refuse to go into the details of the self harm but it is safe and I am in no danger of death or infection.
The mania has been reaching a peak over the past few days. As usual I’m not getting any joy from this episode. I almost envy people who are elated during mania but only almost.
Yesterday was disorganised day and I was genuinely afraid that I wouldn’t eat and as my eating has been patchy lately I really needed to eat. At 9.30 last night I ate nursery food and though it wasn’t what I wanted it was what I needed.
Today I am experiencing irritable day.
My brain is itching and I want to rip it out. Sounds are too loud, my animals want to sit too close, someone knocked on the door too loudly and I need to sleep for another eight hours.
I am desperate for rest.