It’s 5:43am CST and I’m watching a crappy horror movie in which a dead guy is playing basketball with his severed head. My behavior tonight led me to wonder if I was having a manic episode, and I am! See if you agree with me:
Once I got the inkling that I was I did some bullet points. Racing thoughts, irritation/agitation, unwise financial choices, decreased need for sleep, easily distracted, increased need to accomplish a million goals, increased libido and blurt out stupid crap and talk really fast from topic to topic which has nothing to do with anything…Thinking back now I’m glad I can go back and tell Chris that it was just me being manic and I’m not actually diminishing in intelligence. There were a few little spurts there in the car with him in which I almost felt like my mouth was out of control and I was really embarrassed after.
This is the longest episode I’ve had this year. It’s been almost a month of this crap. While I was laying in bed thinking about how I had about two hours before I needed to get up and shower and I realized I have way more energy than I should have. I figured the sleep problems might be hormones. In fact I pretty much brushed off everything except the excessive spending on hormones. My schedule gets off pretty often, but the extra energy was the tip off. I’m guessing stress was the trigger.
So…if I have energy and spare time before my day begins why just lay in bed? So I got up and moved some heavy furniture by myself. I still have one more piece to move but I’d probably make too much noise if I did it at this hour. I’ve been in an obsessive pre-decorating for Christmas zone. All the furniture moving is to make room for the tree.
I feel like I disassociate a little with my feelings over admitting I’m having a manic episode. I do it every time too. I feel a little anger too, because in my opinion ‘ordinary’ people think mania is something different than it is, maybe even something more dangerous than it can be. And don’t get me wrong, mania can get dangerous, but I’m not going to hurt you or your kids or your dog. I feel like people think that.
For anyone wondering, my interview went well, at least I think so. It was about a 40 minute endeavor in which benefits were explained to me and I got a tour of the facility. Training is three months so as nervous as I am about learning my job well enough to do it myself I feel more confident knowing it would be a consistent thing to get used to over an extended period of time. I’ll likely find out Monday my friend and I are thinking, if I’ve nabbed the job. The interviewer said she wanted to call my references and then call me back.
At least for the moment, I don’t mind being in manic-mode. Nothing horrific has come from it thus far, and I’m getting plenty done. Before I plummet into the impending depression that will likely follow, I’d like to get a whole bunch more stuff done. I love that “accomplished” feeling.