It's four-o'-fuck in the morning, and I have emerged from several days of deep depression and bouts of anxiety only to find myself in a hypomanic state. Well, I prefer this to being depressed, honestly. I'm laughing at things again. Oh, don't worry, no delusions of grandeur. No evil plans to take over the world, this time, I promise. Seriously, my manic/hypomanic never seems to result in anything more than staying up all night, smoking lots of cigarettes, dyeing my hair at 2 a.m. and making art. Okay, so I haven't made the art yet, but I'm forcing myself to wait until tomorrow- er, well, when I wake up- because if I start now, I won't sleep until it's done. And who knows when that will be. Once I get absorbed in something like that, I have absolutely no sense of time.
Okay, so I'm actually kind of afraid to go to sleep. I ended up in one of those episodes where the main character does stuff, and things happen, and they find out it's a dream, and then they wake up, but they're really still dreaming... and it goes on, and on, and on. Dream within a dream within a dream. I am no stranger to this. It's happened to me ever since I was a little kid, and I would sleep-walk and have night terrors. Each time I "wake up," I find myself somewhere else, somewhere unfamiliar, or worse, just familiar enough to convince me that I am not dreaming. In these nested nightmares, I am usually impaired in some way: paralyzed, blind, deaf, or unable to speak, the last being the most terrifying. In the dream, there is always something vital that I absolutely have to say, but when I try to speak, it's like something is holding my mouth shut, or some invisible force is absorbing my voice as I talk. I fight it, but none of the words come out intelligible. Sometimes, what I need to say is something to help someone else, or warn others of something, but often, I am being accused of something and I am trying to defend myself. Unsurprisingly, the people I am trying to talk to are usually my parents, or other people from my past, living or dead. And I have this sense that there's something in my head scripting all of it, making me go through it all again and again. Fuck that thing, whatever it is. Can I just have it surgically removed?
These are the things that bind me. My deepest fears, my rawest insecurities. I'm still fighting them. I have help, but damn it, sometimes I still fall, and I end up licking my wounds for longer than I'd prefer to.
Anyway. Dream analysis aside (because, seriously, so much symbolism it isn't even funny), what irritates me most is this hard cycling that's been happening. I know that there has been quite a bit of stress to deal with, but I'm suspecting that there is probably a chemical component as well. Maybe the gabapentin isn't agreeing with me. Maybe the escitalopram I've been on for the last ten years finally quit working. Whatever it is, I'm over it, and I want off the rollercoaster. I don't want to be medicated into oblivion. I don't want my creativity to be squelched or the voices of my gods to be silenced. I just want to be able to function on some meaningful level from day to day. I feel sabotaged by my own body.
Speaking of that, aside from my brain, my physical pain level has been ridiculous. Sciatica, neck pain, even my wrists and ankles hurt. Crawling, tingling pain, up and down my arms, like there are electric eels living under my skin. (Graphic, isn't it?)
AARGHH. I'm just. So. DONE. I want to run outside and scream. Now, some people might scream "WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??" I've stopped asking that. The scream I'm talking about is more like a battle cry. I don't care why. I don't care how. I just want to conquer it all, and be a better and stronger and brighter person for all the anguish. There are parts that are always going to be broken, but there are ways around it. There is always some way.
And there is always something to be grateful for.
I'm grateful that I am awake and productive, not locked in a nightmare, at this moment. I'm grateful that I have energy right now. I'm grateful, ever and always, for my husband and his ability to read my mind and bring home iced coffee when I didn't even ask. I'm grateful for music that lifts my spirits and makes me feel good. I'm grateful for friends in other parts of the world whom I can chat with at... 4:29 a.m. I'm grateful for the fact that tomorrow I will not waste the day whinging about this stuff, because I'm getting out now, and I will be making art instead.
I'm grateful for my manic. I know I shouldn't be. Everyone tells me it's bad. Everyone tells me it's just another kind of destructive mood, but I really, really don't see it. So screw you, psychiatric community. I'm grateful for this madness. It keeps me sane. (I'm sure Oscar Wilde would agree.)
“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” - Oscar Wilde
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