It’s no secret that I have bipolar disorder. Most of my close friends and family know, and if you’ve ever seen me un-medicated, I apologize. Not all people with bipolar disorder require medication to lead stable, healthy lives. Also, not everyone requires medication permanently once put on medication. Unfortunately for me, I currently require medication. I don’t see me being able to go off the meds anytime soon, either. Currently I am on Seroquel and Abilify and they are both a godsend to my state of mind. The Seroquel helps with the bipolar, stabilizing my mania and depression enough to bring me closer to a normal range of emotions. I’ll still have manic days, or depressive days but they are not as severe as they would be without medication.
Without medication, I was manic for days at a time, sometimes spanning over a week or two. During this time, I’ll barely sleep, I am bouncing off the walls with energy but without a focus to use the energy for much good. Basically, I’d start organizing and get distracted halfway through. I’d start a project, only to lose focus on it part of the way through and never come back to finish it except maybe during my next manic phase. So my house was full of half done projects and cleaning attempts. I’d get combative with other people, even inventing reasons to become upset with other people because I was out looking for a fight. Risky behavior increased, as did intrusive thoughts about self harm. I’d spend money on things I didn’t really need, but since I was impulsive I’d spend it anyways and feel guilty about it later. This meant that I had to come up with coping mechanisms. If I felt a manic day coming on, I’d have to cancel all my plans and avoid people to limit collateral damage from my mania. I had to avoid talking to friends because my paranoia read into everything that was said, looking for reasons to be mad or upset. I avoided shopping and instead focused on adding things to my Amazon wishlist to avoid spending what little money we had. I tried to spend my manic days cleaning instead, blasting upbeat music, using the flow to deep clean my house or finish projects. I became a recluse during my manic days which didn’t do my state of mind any favors for what happens after the mania ends.
Almost like clockwork, once the mania ended I crashed. Hard. A depressive state would settle into my mind, once again losing focus, but more out of disinterest than anything. I’d feel horrible for everything I said or did while manic, analyzing every word or action as if I were on trial. I’d sleep for days, exhausted after my many days of sleeplessness. I’d get out of bed to care for my children, but that was it. Care for myself hit the back burner. I needed reminders to even feed myself. I had no interest in anything, not even talking to friends or video games which doubled as my meager social life. Once again, I was a recluse but for a totally different reason. I’d push friends away, convinced I didn’t deserve their friendship or that I was a burden on everyone around me. I’d lay in bed, waiting to die, but having no motivation to help it along. Showers required willpower that I lacked some days. If it wasn’t for my OCD I’d probably have not even taken showers or attempted to get dressed at all. I felt pathetic and worthless.
It wasn’t until I was manic for over a week and was starting to have terrifying hallucinations that I decided to seek help for my bipolar once again. This time they tried me on Seroquel. I slept for the first week after starting it. I’d get up, make breakfast and put my kids on the bus then go back to bed, because I had exhausted myself just to do that little bit. Once it eventually started to stabilize though, I felt … different. Now that I’ve been medicated for over a year I am lucid enough to recognize what the feeling is. I miss the mania in a way. I miss the rush of euphoria and feeling like I can do anything. But I also recognize that the feeling came with all of the issues. I miss it, but I don’t miss it. I can look back at my behavior before and see that it wasn’t working for me, and it wasn’t fair to everyone around me.
I still get manic days. I still get depressive days. I still can’t leave the house some days. I still feel like a burden sometimes. I cry for no reason at all. But they aren’t as extreme, or as often. But I also get up, take a shower almost daily, I feed myself without too many reminders, and I am even working on yoga when I get the motivation. Hopefully it will be more often as I go along. I see my counselor once a week to handle my stress and discuss coping mechanisms to handle when I do get a manic or depressive day. We adjust my medications as needed. I’m not saying everyone needs medication for their bipolar. I just wish people wouldn’t judge me so harshly for needing the help. I sometimes feel if they knew me before I was medicated they’d understand. So that’s my motivation behind this post. To give a small insight into what my daily life felt like before medications and maybe it’ll help them understand.
Full Nest Syndrome 