Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart (30 page)

The tingling now began to slowly travel up my spine and down my legs, and I smiled as the feeling was beyond euphoric. I looked to the clock and the “time” read a quarter till midnight, the same time I stopped at the clock tower in Denver. I took a deep breath as it had suddenly become clear: this was the second and final phase of my enlightenment journey. I was but a single pawn in the game of life, being torn apart from the inside out in the name of good versus evil. An orgasmic energy to the tenth power overcame me, and I was in a state of complete ecstasy. I took out a cigarette, slid open the glass door, lit it and inhaled, trying to bring back the calm. I exhaled, turning west to east, and as the smoke mixed with the moisture from my mouth, it formed a symbolic hazy mist around the lifeless and leafless tree directly in front of me. I took a number of hits as I began to center myself again, as the realization that this was all just the beginning of the end overtook me. I glanced at the clock and it was midnight. I took the half-smoked cigarette, opened my right hand, and put the cigarette out in the middle of my palm. The nail was now gone and the revelation was now complete. I grabbed the ice-cold railing outside the door with both hands and squeezed. The pain and relief overtook me while life reentered me . . .

Present Day:

6

144

8,640

518, 400

Those are the number of days, hours, minutes and seconds I had the distinct pleasure of spending in the hospital after my last episode. Please do not feel bad for me as I do not feel bad for myself. Bizarre as it may sound, there is some fun involved when you’re convinced you’re the Wizard of Oz and the world is your battleground, but that’s a bedtime story I’m saving for that special someone. I am writing this not to try and prove a point or to make a huge statement of some sort, but because I feel it’s the right thing to do.

Now, to actually believe it’s the right thing to do is a whole other story, especially when you take into consideration the above trippy manic flashback. When I was manic, the things I did seemed like the right things to do. I can get a little confused sometimes, although I can usually have fun trying to figure something out in my confusion; for example, trying to date a Southern belle. Once again, I am babbling without getting to the point, so I’ll jump to the conclusion.

On my final day at the hospital, I was speaking with the doctor in charge of my unit (Southside!) and he said a key to handling BMD is to have a plan. This for me is good and bad. Unfortunately, I have an issue with overplanning everything, but we’ll get to that at some other point. I did have a plan for the doctor that encompassed canceling my Denver trip (totally sucked for multiple reasons, but most notably because I had tickets to the Cavs vs. Nugs game and it was a great game), picking up old hobbies I had forgotten about (puzzles rock), heading back to school, and writing.

The doc felt all my ideas were good and even complimented me on my positive and accepting demeanor with BMD (thank you very little). However, he advised me not to post my writing on the Web. His intentions and insights were good but I feel narrow in scope, or at least that’s the story that makes me feel better. His belief was that it could only be detrimental to me, due to the negative stereotypes and stigmas associated with BMD (as well as other mental health issues).

I can sympathize with the doc’s view but only up to a point. I do understand that there is a chance an employer may someday find this blog and terminate me, or it could prevent me from getting a job in the first place. I’m not a complete fool, I just play one in my manic episodes. The issue conveyed to me is that we as a society do not know much about BMD; therefore, we do not talk about it and instead attach detrimental labels to people who suffer from the disorder. So in theory, by keeping this private, I would be benefiting myself.

Right there is the problem. If no one talks about it, then how is anything ever going to change? It simply can’t, and I refuse to be ashamed of something that I did nothing to deserve. Will this blog and my mania prevent me from achieving my dreams? No way. It may mean I take a different path to get there, but I’m going to enjoy the ride. Who knows what can happen?

Session

JP: The trippy manic flashback is obviously expressing delusional thoughts, a primary symptom of a severe elevated mood, and you are quite obviously in a manic episode. You referenced time with quotation marks. Was there any significance to this?

DT: Yeah, time becomes a fairly significant theme in my manic episodes. It defies logic and reason, with hours feeling like minutes and seconds feeling like days. I can get lost in chasing it, which results in the feeling of “time” or timelessness setting in.

KEY TERMS:
TRIPPY MANIC FLASHBACK

Submitted on 5/6/10

Red

December 25, 2009 (trippy manic flashback)

The sun roof was open and the winter air rushed in as we sped down Route 68 towards the next meeting place. It was Christmas night, and my journey was one from which storytellers will make their own legends. I was completely aware of my surroundings and had a connection that moved through my entire body as it revealed secrets hidden for generations. This mission had started yesterday morning on my drive up north to see my family. I was in possession of a secret that was meant to be the savior of mankind. It was I who had been chosen to complete the direst of missions, which I did not yet fully understand. The entire plan had been laid out before me in my mind, and while I knew what I had to do, actually doing it terrified and confused me.

I spun back to the previous morning in my mind as I lifted my hands through my open sunroof and clapped to the beat of the song. The colors all around me came alive in multidimensional ways. The hazards of a broken-down vehicle caught my eye, and the driver signaled me to slow down. A smile overtook my face. I could see the puzzle and mystery align before me, and I became engulfed in the game.

The cars’ colors became a code on the Interstate. My “brother” blew his semi horn to alert me to evil, but I continued on my journey. My youngest brother’s new dog was named Liberty; the subtle coincidences of everyday life began to take meaning. I took control of the situation and all hell broke loose . . .
 

TBC . . .

Session

DT: Wow, I was manic as shit right there; I was definitely in the spin.

JP: Yeah, there are the hallucinations, delusional thinking, thoughts of grandiosity, and a preoccupation with thought and schemes that may lead to self-neglect.

DT: Yeah, one hell of a ride, let me tell you.

KEY TERMS
: ONIONS, ACCIDENTS, “USERS,” SELFISHNESS

Submitted on 5/25/10

Red

January 1, 2009 (trippy manic flashback):

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!

WAHOOOOO!!!!!

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

HAPPY 2010!!!!!!

A couple of the patients were running up and down the halls of our unit screaming and celebrating the New Year. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. I rolled over on my side and tried to go back to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow I’d get out of the ward. Too bad that deep down, I knew that wasn’t true.

I had gone to bed early, before any of the NYE parties had kicked off. I was still quite delusional; I believed that the television shows, especially football games, were being influenced by my thoughts. The weather for a majority of the bowl games was pretty awful, and I thought that was in direct relationship to my “attempt” to end the world. I spent most of my NYE sitting on a window sill, looking out the window and wondering what my friends were doing. I was sure they were excitedly preparing for the upcoming festivities: getting dressed up, buying booze, trying on their ridiculous 2010 framed glasses, and celebrating another year on the books. I, on the other hand, was lost and confused once again.

Stubby came by the hospital on New Year’s Day and tried to lift my spirits by bringing me a pizza. He had accidentally put onions on it, and I cussed him out and walked out on him for it. It was taking every bit of my strength to battle my way back from my episode, and I felt like I couldn’t get a break. Why were my parents and my aunt the only ones who had bothered to visit me in here?

Present Day:

A family friend recently had a horrible farming accident that threatened his life. It’s almost scarily common for one of these accidents to occur in the community; that’s part of the farming life. Stubby and I had just gotten to Chicago when we heard the news. We were provided with updates from our family, who had gone to the hospital to offer support. When Poncho was badly hurt in a snowmobile accident so many family members and friends came to console our family at the hospital. Almost no one came to see me on the psych ward.

In hindsight, it was probably better that my friends and family didn’t visit me in the hospital; I know I wasn’t a pretty sight. But at the time I felt bitter, sitting there alone in the psych ward on NYE, knowing that just about everyone I knew was out celebrating life while I was fighting for mine. Once I left the hospital, I struggled for a while with the notion that people didn’t care. I’ve always thought as myself as a friend who is there in others’ times of need, always willing to lend a hand and give encouragement. In my time of need, I felt betrayed by the selfishness of others and the “users” I once thought as my friends.

To say I still don’t struggle with this from time to time would be a lie. However, I’ve tried to use this struggle to motivate myself; to give me strength to be the person I know I can be rather the person I think everyone else wants me to be. I swore I would not speak to some friends who I felt had totally deserted me in my most vulnerable time, but that would make me no better than them.

Session

JP: The psych ward is not only an intimidating environment for patients, but also for friends and family. Not many of us enjoy being in hospitals; it reminds us of our mortality. When you combine that with mental health issues, it can exaggerate everything due to the vast unknowns involved. It may seem like betrayal or selfishness, but it’s usually related to fear, anxiety, and intimida--”