Lifting the Lid on Mania
Lifting the Lid on Mania
Most portrayals of bipolar I consumed in media throughout my teens taught me that it is a dangerous illness, characterised by violence, unpredictability, emotional outburst and other, often negative, qualities. I thought of films like Manic[1], where Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character, Lyle Jenson, acts so brutally to another teen that he ends up institutionalised. Whilst institutionalised, he meets various people, including Chad, who has bipolar.
With it being ‘Time to Talk Day’ only
a few days ago, I felt compelled to write about my experiences of having
bipolar, and the associated stigma that continues to surround this disorder. Depression
gets talked about a lot – something that is by no means a bad thing –
but I still see so little discourse about mania, even in my own writing.
So, in honour of Time to Talk Day, I’d
like to lift the lift on mania
Understanding my Bipolar
As such, when diagnosed in 2018 as a teen myself, only negative thoughts came to mind. I questioned my ability to contain such qualities, wondering whether violence was in my DNA, whether I could successfully avoid both depressive and manic episodes by taking enough medications, or whether I would fall victim to my condition instead.
At first, whilst trialling medications to see what fit, some of these things did come true. I suffered terrible depressive episodes, ones filled with self-harm, self-hatred, and considerable amounts of self-doubt. Is this my future now? Will I ever come out the other side, or will it really be this dark forever?
The flip side of this darkness were episodes of great light – too much light, perhaps. Endless amounts of energy, risk taking behaviour, and productivity were my greatest friends. At times, mania can feel lonelier than depression, because you feel so far away from everything and everyone else.
A life characterised by depression, mania, and the moments of neutrality in-between mean that people don’t always know which version of you they are going to see that day, and that’s very difficult, for both the person with bipolar and the people around them.
I always thought that depression would be the hardest thing for people to understand. Days so bleak that the duvet is your only solace, crying endlessly for hours despite your life not being that bad, that you’re actually very fortunate. But if anything, your life being good only makes it feel harder.
But the depression is something people understand more
than mania. They can comprehend these symptoms better because they see them
more, they see people talking about them and confessing that they too, struggle
with depression. The more people talk about it, the more people understand.
Surfing the Waves
Because mania is so difficult to describe, so difficult to convey in words to people who haven’t experienced it, it’s not very often that I see people talking about it. So, when I describe mania to people without bipolar, the only way I can think to explain it is that I feel like there’s something buzzing under my skin, a fizziness that I feel all over my body. But that’s only a physical symptom – one of many, at that.
In my mind, it feels like everything is on fast forward. I am doing things before I’ve really thought about them, getting giddy and excited like a kid, throwing myself into new and old hobbies alike. There’s this endless energy – like I mentioned earlier – that means you feel less inclined to sleep, often busying yourself with whatever you’ve fixated on that day. For me personally, it’s often writing, fiction and non-fiction for hours on end.
But the thing I find hardest with talking about mania, is that there’s always a mitigation in my words. I describe things in ways that are socially acceptable, in ways that other people can stomach to hear, and I do this because of stigma.
So often, mania leads to things that are deemed unacceptable – devious, even. From racking up thousands in debt, to compulsive lying, to promiscuity; the list is seemingly endless. Stigma surrounding such activities and events leads to guilt and shame, a feeling I am all too familiar with, as are many people with bipolar. But without discussing these things, the stigma will always be there.
During manic episodes, I’ve bought lots of things I don’t need, I’ve drunk more than I should, and I’ve spoken to those I love in a tone that I would never normally use. I’ve ranted and raved, scolding people for holding me back, for stopping me from doing the things I want to do. I’ve even looked my sweet, little dog in the eye and told her I can’t deal with her. But is this any different to what ‘regular’ people sometimes do?
People without bipolar rack up debt, drink more than they should, and scold their loved ones. Whilst these actions do have their own stigma and consequences, those who suffer from mania have a kind of double stigma, from both the actions and the associated disorder.
The Bright Side
But mania isn’t all negative, in fact, for me, it brings more positives than anything else. It isn’t just moments of cruelty to the ones I love, or spending that I come to regret later. Because without mania, I wouldn’t be who I am.
Without mania, I wouldn’t have sat and taught myself how to crochet beautiful blankets. I wouldn’t have written endless short stories about things my neutral brain couldn’t even imagine. I wouldn’t have taught myself to make candles that I then went on to gift to friends and family. I wouldn’t have created a memory box for my fiancée filled with notes, pictures, and poems.
Because at times, mania is my main source of creativity, passion, and drive. I think it is so important to remember than mania is just a big a part of me as my depression, so why are my dark days acceptable but my brightest, boldest days are not?
So the next time someone says to me, ‘are you manic?’, I want to say yes. I want to say yes, because whilst sometimes I do things that are deemed unacceptable by society, I also have days where I do things that society loves and celebrates. But both parts of me are valuable, as is the same for every person with bipolar.
Mania isn’t something we should be scared of talking
about, so let’s start here.
Comments
Post a Comment