Experience “A Day In The Life” Of Bipolar Mixed Episodes
My personal notes from a five day brush with hell
It’s my birthday today, and I am MANIC. There’s also a heavy helping of loathing depression… I think I might be entering a bipolar mixed episode. Can I ask you something, reader? When the party is over, and all your friends go home, and you wake up the next day… how do you reconcile with the crushing feeling of being alone, while subjected to the chaos of bipolar mixed episodes?
Substance abuse is the obvious choice.
It’s 7:36AM – I’m smoking my second joint and halfway through my first beer. You might be asking yourself why these don’t line up, and I’ll tell you: there was a semblance of hope when I smoked the first joint with a sparkling water that I wasn’t going to turn down this bent road today.
I was wrong.
The mania is becoming out of control, I need to depress my system. Smothering my feelings of mania in alcohol is easy, time consuming, and most importantly: FUN. Or at least, it’s akin to fun. When you’re in the thick of a bipolar mixed episode, escaping to “fun-land” is not only tempting – your thinking and emotions are too vulnerable to say NO to buying a ticket. There are so many better options, but substance use is a slick and slippery slope to partial relief. Because I got drunk yesterday, today I feel like dog shit, therefore I need MORE substances to feel better. Makes perfect sense, anyone can follow that logic. And, it’s so, so, so, easy to indulge my senses.
The irony is I’m actually blinding and blunting my senses. Why does it feel so good? I’m sure all the dopamine and serotonin and the other feel-good chemicals I’m too uneducated to understand are being dumped into my system at an alarming rate. Damn, is it so bad? Come on, Jake, listen to yourself.
Even when you can meditate, even when you can be observant of your thoughts and watch them float by, it is torturous to be in a mixed state and by yourself.
These joints are kicking in… time is moving really slowly now and I’m becoming more relaxed… finally. Thank you Lord. Everything is going to be OKAY — damn, for a minute there I was really starting to worry. I do know why I resort to substances, it’s not a fucking mystery.
I want relief.
Waging war in my mind in the fight for stability everyday is absolutely exhausting. The adversary has advanced weapons in bipolar, depression, anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, and the threat of nuclear psychotic episodes. Or, like today, he concocts a special blend of symptoms: the infamous Bipolar Mixed Episode… He’s a mad man, this guy on the other end. I’m not kidding, his ideas are insane sometimes.
I was able to come down with the help of my girlfriend when she woke up around 8:40AM… crying for the first time in two-and-a-half years, in the kitchen with Kaitlin, I wept for 15 minutes. As I released the tears, I could feel the excess manic energy leave my system. I got relief.
The rest of the day was filled with drinking and eating and smoking and playing music with my musician buddy. Wrapped up the evening with a delicious dinner and a shower. Took my meds and passed out.
***
9:42AM – Day 2 of dealing with bipolar mixed episodes
Despite defeating the manic demon of yesterday before brunch, today is, apparently, a new day. I have had nothing to drink. It’s Monday, and I’m not crossing that threshold. In fact I’m going to significantly curtail my alcohol consumption. Although using alcohol as a depressant to stay out of mania is effective, it isn’t sustainable, and I’ve been kidding myself. Plus, when dealing with bipolar mixed episodes, the alcohol amplifies the depressive aspects. It’s like watching a poisonous snake eat itself. So, no more booze.
This morning I’ve only had water, cacao, and CBD, but I’ve been fighting that seething under-the-skin monster since I opened my eyelids this morning at 3:45AM.
The manic demon also loves to throw in carnival-tier nightmares, fluctuating blood pressure, and fidgeting. So you can’t really tell if you were just asleep for another hour and a half, or if you just tossed and turned for what felt like a long time, but it’s actually 3:48AM.
I’m using all the tools on my tool belt to remain calm. The discomfort of severe mania could be described as being held hostage in your own body. Your nervous system is in full blown Fight or Flight response mode, but you’re laying in bed… then you get up to try and do something productive, and your mind is too scrambled to follow basic directions. Cooking eggs is overwhelming, and napping is rocket science. The madman is driving a steam engine in a figure-eight between your ears. He’s laughing and crying and having a grande ole’ time.
***
4:30AM – Day 3 of mixed manic depressive episode
I fell asleep around midnight, so I’ve got roughly four and a half hours of sleep under my belt – I was hoping for double that. I woke up abruptly, not surprising for this state, and not comfortable. Racing, repetitive, nonsensical thoughts, shallow breathing, stomach pain. I try to cuddle with my dog and go back to sleep, but she can’t seem to sit still either. We’re a match made in heaven. Maybe I should’ve invested in a real support animal instead of trying to make one out of a “normal” rescue dog on the cheap. God help me. I’ve repeated that thought a few times, too, since waking up.
I’m trying to be grateful but I’m mostly just getting intrusive worried thoughts about the last time I was in this condition. It’s not exactly helpful to be living in the past right now… alas, I’m along for the ride it seems. Bipolar mixed episodes are ruthless. You feel terrible emotionally and mentally, and you have the manic energy to do something stupid, simultaneously.
Painfully, I drift off to sleep.
7:15AM — Awake from night terrors
An acquaintance I’ve known for years just threatened to kill me in my last “dream” before waking. Fun stuff. I took a double dose of my antipsychotic last night, so I’m slightly less wired than I was yesterday morning around this time, but I still feel like shit.
My stomach is tight and unsettled as well. I still don’t have a healthy appetite, but I’ll force myself to eat in the next hour or so if I can’t get back to sleep. Seven cumulative hours of sleep is decent, that should keep me away from psychosis for another day, though I was aiming for nine or more.
I am generally desire-less. Toying with the idea of buying a movie from the short list I keep of titles I’d like to see doesn’t seem like a good idea. I don’t think I could get through it, or enjoy it, in this state.
My sole desire is relief: a return to normal stability.
Feeling a bit like a riverboat gambler, I would also settle for full-on depression or full-on hypomania. At least I know how to navigate those waters… this bipolar mixed episode nonsense is a tragic mix that must have been cooked up by the devil himself. Worn out, with a “live wire” nervous system, yet too unwell to use any of that energy for productive self help at the moment.
Later in the day I talk to both of my doctors. I am to continue with the double-dose of antipsychotics, and I have a PRN waiting at the pharmacy for the insomnia and nervous system dysfunctional energy from the mixed episode symptoms.
***
9:05AM – Day 4 of bipolar mixed episode
The PRN along with the double-dose of my antipsychotic worked like magic. I got a full nine hours of sleep. As I get up and going, I realize I have descended from full blown manic depression and landed softly in manageable hypomania. “Safe,” I hear my inner umpire call.
Gym, food, a walk with my dog, and I’m back at my drawing table to work on the next piece of art by the early afternoon hours.
***
8:45AM – Day 5 – stable in hypomania
Despite a casual stroll through the gateway of hell, I’m not too much worse for wear. I breathe a sigh of relief — psychosis has been avoided. I’m energized by hypomania but it’s on the scale where I can direct it toward self care and creativity.
Crisis averted.