After spending so much time feeling these ultra strong unmanageable emotions, these great highs and extreme lows, it can be difficult to adjust to the numb state the rest of the world lives in. Who can really ever feel normal after a prolonged manic episode. Not typically rapid cycling I have trouble distinguishing what my state of mind really is. Am I manic, or just happy (in a good mood as the norms say)? Am I depressed or this how real people feel? How sucky never knowing. I rely on the input of the people around me to gauge my state. The problems arise when you are cut-off, there is no way to know when you are all alone. As a teenager I shut myself away from my family as I overloaded on drugs and alcohol. When I wasn’t feeling those ultra highs from drugs or bipolar I cut. As a self punishment for being emotionless and uninterested in anything. Looking back I beleive I was just too stoned to realized I was dysthymic, normal. The vaccum left by the intensity triggered by drug use and raging teenage hormones, was debilitating. I most definately rapid cycled at that time, the pattern is so clear now and drug use had a big influence. Wake up- smoke pot and be normal
go to school- pot wears off
third period get loud and obnoxious,
angry by fifth period and cutting
Eat lunch- nap.
After lunch- obnoxious again
After school-smoke pot and be normal
Bedtime- too much anxiety about things said while in unhigh mode so, more cutting
I now know I was self medicating with pot, but having to go to school kept me from being high all the time so I ended up swinging wildly. Leaving me with periods of a lack of extreme emotion which I mistook as being cursed by god to live an emotionless exiistence with an inability to connect with another human being. After the new relationship high wore off I always went seeking a new relationship for that induced mania. It never lasted. It always went away ad I had no idea that was just normal. Not everything is all or nothing and find myself living that way in many aspects of my life today. If I’m cleaning, I must be all cleaning and can’t stop to do something else. A hobby quickly becomes a two week obsession that I may never do again. Jobs went right along with boys, though did have a bit better track record. There is one place that hired me back twice. Even the chicken house wouldn’t do that. I’m tired of dwelling on the past now.