I’ve been discharged from the hospital 3 times for manic episodes and upon being released, I always get this similar confused feeling that I was never able to explain until now.
When I’m manic, I feel like I’m in a parallel universe that has different rules. I am completely crazy to everything and everyone. Once I come out of mania, I forget that that universe doesn’t exist. I was crazy in the world that we are all in right now. But to me, it doesn’t feel like I was in the same place the entire time. I feel like my body left to a different world where I could be manic and then I came back stable.
One of the hardest parts of my mania comedowns is friendships. I have 2 friends that know my illness and have been by my side for every manic episode. When I’m sick, I text them until 4am and call them and buy them gifts and ignore them and say mean things then text 80 times and tell them how much I love them. I know they will never leave me.
But I have friends who don’t know about my illness. They experience my crazy and so when I come down from mania, I want to be forgiven for my poor behavior and social impairments. I have bad judgment on who to tell and what to say and I don’t want to expose myself to people who will react badly.
It’s just another aspect of the illness that I have to deal with. I go back and forth between just telling them because I have nothing to be ashamed about and not telling them because of so many different reasons. I’m going to take each manic episode as a learning experience because I’m sure this wasn’t my last. So maybe I will do a little social experiment and tell one person why I behaved the way I did and see what happens.
If I’m called crazy, I know it’s not the first time and it definitely won’t be the last.