When Dysphoric Mania Tears Apart the Fabric of My Mind


I am bipolar, and my condition is the one where I have short and sharp cycles. In the clinical terminology it is called “dysphoric mania.”

Recently I took back a leather jacket to Nordstrom because a tear developed by the pocket. In this case the problem was fixed, and I got a new jacket.

So what happens when the fabric I call my mind starts to tear? What happens when I am in the shackles of hypomania and my mind is in chaos? In this state I detest fast music and bright lights. My mind can process everything at breakneck speeds yet focus on nothing. My psychiatrist asked me, when I am in the realm of hypomania, do I get dark thoughts — aka, do I have suicidal thoughts. I responded that if I do, they are quickly replaced with another thought.

For people who can never understand this torment, I ask if they’ve ever had a coffee high that makes them jittery. I tell them to multiply that by 100 and add chaos in their thoughts. One of my symptoms is that I want to isolate and be away from people. Their every word or movement is like an attack on my mind.

When the hypomania subsides, I crash into depression, and my life goes from high speed to that of walking through sand. There is no happiness, and dark thoughts of suicide enter my thinking.

Life becomes sheer hell when depression weaves itself into the chaos. I feel like the fabric of my whole being is being torn apart. Thoughts of suicide occupy my mind, and if I am lucky I will send out a text to a close knit group of friends. This is my cry for help. The last episode resulted in my going to the hospital.

My cycles last no more than 24 hours, and then life returns to kind of normal. The result of this is I feel exhausted, as if I had the most rigorous workout. My life is like the ripples on the water after a stone is thrown into it. There are fleeting moments of happiness; however, depression is the main feeling. Over time the depression fades like the ripples, and I wonder when the next cycle will descend on me.

I know I can’t take back this brain and get a new one like I did with my leather coat. So how do I piece the ripped up fabric of myself back together? Will the torn fabric be noticeable, and will it make me less of a person?

Friends tell me I am a very tough chick because I have survived lots of shit and show a confident woman. What I don’t show is the damaged fabric of me. I am so used to putting on the look good presentation, and I know if I show the real me, the walls of stigma will be everywhere. Society doesn’t like to see a woman who is being torn apart within. The choice to show or not show the turmoil can almost be as bad as having the turmoil. You want to reach out for help, yet to do so will alienate people.

But I have to believe that if today I survive the roller coaster ride, I may enjoy tomorrow.

Follow this journey on Kristimac2015’s blog.

The Mighty is asking its readers the following: What’s one secret about you or your loved one’s disability and/or disease that no one talks about? If you’d like to participate, please send a blog post to [email protected] Please include a photo for the piece, a photo of yourself and 1-2 sentence bio. Check out our Submit a Story page for more about our submission guidelines.

JOIN THE CONVERSATION

Related to Bipolar Disorder

Remembering Those Who Are Not in Mental Illness Recovery

As I sat in the waiting room of my doctor’s office tonight, the first hand of the clock indicating the commencement of my third hour spent waiting my turn on the sofa, the door to the back swung open, and I overheard, without much effort really, an anxiety-ridden mother speak intensely about her teenage son [...]

7 Confessions of a Bipolar Mama

I was diagnosed late in life — just three years ago, at age 44 — with bipolar disorder. I had suspected for most of my adulthood that something was greatly amiss in my mind, and bipolar often seemed to fit, but I was under the mistaken impression I could overcome the wiring in my brain [...]

To the 19-Year-Old Girl Who's Still Waiting for the Right Mental Illness Diagnosis

Hey, Kiana, it’s me! Well, actually it’s you. It’s the older and slightly wiser you, four years into the future. I’m writing this to hopefully shed some light on how you’re feeling at this moment, and hopefully to help you in your future. It’s 2013. You’re 19 years old. You’re attending Pierce College for lack [...]

When Walmart Told My Limping Daughter 'Only Adults' Could Use the Electric Cart

My daughter and I encountered an amazing champion the other day. I’ve been wanting to write about our experience, but I’m a little embarrassed we even needed her help. You see, my daughter has bipolar disorder. Normally she runs and jumps like most other children her age. But recently, one of the medications we’ve been [...]