Bipolar Loses Its Romance

For years, I thought my mental illness was romantic. I felt I saw things clearer than people without mental illness. I felt I was somehow more real, more in touch with reality, more capable of feeling. I thought it made me more interesting. When, a year or so ago, I tried again to take medication, I was worried it would make me bland, that it would take away the thrills I found within my highs and lows. I liked the waves of emotion, of not knowing when or where my next episode would happen. The intensity of both mania and depression was exciting. Within the past 6 months though, things have gone from entertaining to incredibly painful, and I no longer want to be this way, I no longer look down upon normal people. Now I am jealous of them. Ready to explode and scream in a manic episode, pure pulsating energy, fixations (my house was so clean!). Thankfully I’m not much of a spender (although I’m sure I would be if I had the means). Oddly, my sex drive while manic is almost non-existent. Physically I do not feel much anything while manic. I used to cut while manic for this reason. Nothing is ever enough while manic, I’m never where I want to be. Take me out of my house, I need to return. Pull me away from the bar, I can’t stop thinking about it. Movement is THE ANSWER. The agitation that comes with the mania, good lord the agitation. Don’t you DARE try to tell me to calm down, I AM CALM! Don’t touch me, don’t interrupt me, don’t tell me to turn my beloved musi...
Source: World of Psychology - Category: Psychiatry & Psychology Authors: Tags: Bipolar Depression Inspiration & Hope Mania Personal Personality Bipolar Disorder Cutting Depressive Episode Manic Episode Mood Disorder Self Harm Uniqueness Source Type: blogs