Wednesday, August 29, 2007

More on Mania and such

So I left a kinda incomplete post before, and I don't know how deep I'll get into it now, except to say that the past week has been one of the more difficult episodes in my entire manic-depressive career. remember that scene in Fight Club where Ed Norton shoots himself to get rid of the Brad Pitt part of himself? That was me this week - all suicidal thoughts hinged not on ME, who I like, but on this THING that has come to colonize my body and make life so confusing and unbearable at times.

It sounds really melodramatic to people who haven't been there. I know it must, but that's just the way it is. I *do* love myself - my illness is something I could really do without.

I've written extensively about What Happened in my journals in the past week, and I think it's important to try and glean some kind of conclusion about What it's Really All About. Basically...

One of the themes I've explored in the past about manic-depression is that in addition to whatever episodic symptoms you're experiencing that can be qualified by medical-speak, there are also some intangible qualities that can only be described as "mystical," where your intuition is on absolute overload and you become CONVINCED that there's a helluva lot more going on than the surface of things would suggest.

But coupled with this "sixth sense" is also an overwhelming sense of paranoia...okay, imagine, this: you feel like you know something's going on, but you also feel like this thing that's going on can also hurt you. In other words, you take it personally....

So imagine this scenario: You SEE something important. But you also FEEL that that thing is being brought to your attention because it can potentially bring you harm. Thus, it becomes very difficult to proceed from a rational perspective, because not only is somethng noteworthy going on beneath the surface, but you also believe it has the potential to hurt you. Henceforth, all actions stem from this fear...

All I can say about this past week is that it reminded me of what happened in 1994. I cant really say much more about it at this time.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

I Hate Being Manic Depressive

I probably won't write much, because I'm miserable and sad and waiting for the Valium to kick in. The past two days have been horribly crazy...I went to this art opening and all kinds of things about it just really flipped my shit. I don't know where reality was or if I was totally out to lunch the whole time. I hate being manic depressive. I told my doctor today that I was wanting to die and I am. I don't hate *myself* - I just hate how hard this life feels all the time.

I think I have insight and I know *exactly* what's going on - and then I'm completely confused. Is it "insight" talking or just crazed paranoia and psychosis? Misery. Total fucking misery.