I find it incredibly peculiar how things come to being priorities in my life.
I am the kind of a person that has nearly always been a “I have to have it now or I may die” melodramatic, impulsive, I call it being me, person. At times, it has served me well, others not so much. Needless to say, I have a love/hate relationship with shopping and some credit card debt to prove it.
But, right now, the thing that I HAVE to have, is some relief from this mental anguish. I have lost count as to the number of weeks that I have been tormented with the throws of mania, and I am done. I was in tears in my doctor’s office today going through my symptoms, how they have barely subsided with the increase in the latest dose of medication and explaining how I have been successful at “faking it” but I am growing tired, and how tired is a gross understatement.
I explained that I liken myself to a toddler. A child that runs around all day and then just passes out. That I feel like my legs are shaking deep within my body. That the thoughts are racing in between my ears so fast that I have trouble formulating sentences and I am having trouble recalling thoughts, for which I am quite self-conscious about as I fear it makes me sound uneducated. I have to be doing something at all times, for fear I will self-combust. All the while, I just want to scream.
As I sit and explain, tears are streaming down my face and I can’t even bear to look at my doctor, so I look over her should at some faint object on the wall. What was even the point on putting on makeup today as I have cried it all off my face.
Currently, I don’t care that I am a good 15 pounds overweight and need to trim the fat. I don’t care that my jeans don’t fit, nor do I care that my hair is short and shaggy. I have no feelings about the age spots that are popping up on my face or the fact that my hair is falling out (again). These things that usually capture much of my attention, make me feel determined that I need to make change happen (with a pounding of my fist on a surface and a stomping of a foot on the ground) really don’t seem to matter at all. And not in that I am depressed kind of a way, in a that they are superficial, and other things matter so much more in life right way kind of way.
I so desperately need this mania to go away. I need to settle back into my sweet spot. I need to avoid a trip down into the depths of depression (I have a vacation coming up, so skipping that downward spiral all together would be fantastic) but I am tired of being wired. Often, I have been asked about the good qualities of mania. And you know there are quite a number for sure. But, after numerous weeks, a person gets tired and it is hard to sustain the chaos.
This week, the priority is to come down from this manic trip, much like a feather that is floating down oh so gently, whisping side to side by the small shifts in the air until it softly touches the ground, ever so gently. That is what I need. I have faith and hope that this new change in medication will do the trick and by next week’s appointment, I will be in a much more stable place and have much more peace of mind.