My official diagnosis is Bipolar I. That link to WebMD is very basic information. Pretty much my diagnosis means I've had at least one manic period offset by depression. Typically my periods of depression outweigh my periods of mania, so my therapist kind of gave me a diagnosis hovering somewhere between Bipolar I and II; the actual diagnosis sheet says "Bipolar I with periods of hypomania." I should actually drop her a line because I recently had a full-blown case of mania (I haven't been able to visit because with no insurance, I can't afford the $90 office visit). So even with 900mg of lithium carbonate a day, I was highly manic for the entire month of May.
|If only a prescription of heavy metal included Metallica and Megadeth and not pills...|
Commonly, when you look up the symptoms of mania, you will find euphoria, hyperactivity, insomnia, rapid speech, hypersexuality, excessive spending, grandiose thoughts, inflated self-esteem and the like on the list. You know what else is on the list, hidden, like a dirty little mental health secret? Irritability, anger, rage.
Somewhere in the month of May, maybe the end of April, I'm not entirely sure, my mood shifted. I was pissed off at everything. I hated with a passion. I've always had a temper and I've always been vitriolic, prickly, and negative, but man, I was angry. My heart was constantly racing to the point that it felt like I was mainlining adrenaline. I had the hypersexuality and when I got a chance to express it, it was angry, possessive, biting and scratching and making sure I left marks (but awesome sex, nonetheless). I was ready to absolutely fly in the face of any woman who even looked at my man. Every little thing, I was ready to fight. I even got into a verbal altercation with a neighbor and threatened to take his toy car if it landed on my lawn one more time. Everything set me off. Every little noise set me into a rage. I was constantly overstimulated. Have you ever felt like you could just run into the street and beat the everloving shit out of a perfect stranger because they were scuffing their feet and you just couldn't take the fucking sound any more? I felt that every day. For a month. I was up all night, sometimes not going to bed until 8 or 9 in the morning.
I used to describe my bipolar disorder as either a dragon mood (euphoric mania) or a cat mood (deeply complex, depressed). The dragon was always my mania. This time it was a scary, snapping, aggressive wolf.
|I'd never felt this way before|