Mania

It starts with a sleepless night. I roll out of bed several hours too early to a world still sound asleep. I start the coffee pot and pretend that it's not 3am. I wait several hours to go to school and pass the time by listening to music. Something is different. The music feels like honey to my ears. I can't get enough of it. I'm dancing around my kitchen and laughing hysterically at nothing in particular. Life could not be more satisfying. I pass many days like this, sleep slowly becoming more foreign to me. Euphoria becomes the only thing I feel. My desires for everything are so high, as are my senses. I crave beauty and must have it. Beautiful clothes, beautiful shoes, and beautiful men. I feel sexy and intelligent and I know anything I want I can have. The world becomes my playground. Weeks fly by and now I'm sleeping maybe two hours per night. The hallucinations begin. At first they are nothing, fleeting objects out of the corner of my eye. But rather quickly my brain starts to bring to life a personal hell. Men with knifes around every corner, polar bears in my yard and the ground slithers beneath my feet like snakes. I hear running water and bangs and pops that never happen. The world that was so intoxicating a few days ago is now hell on earth. I haven't slept in four days and I know they are coming for me. They aren't my real family, they are imposters!

It didn't take long for my family to realize something was wrong. I got rushed off to a psychiatric hospital. I barely knew what was happening to me even as I was being processed into the hospital. I went in on a Friday night and was so manic that I felt like a god. They asked my mom and brother many questions about what had been happening and what was going to happen. I said my goodbyes and went up the elevator to the floor that would be my home for the next seven days. I didn't sleep at all and couldn't stop talking to the nurses all night long. Finally the other patients woke up and I had people to talk too. I talked and talked and talked. That morning I saw a doctor, who was very rude, and got started on medications. They doped me up and I was back to a "normal" state in two days. Being "normal" in a nut house isn't what you want to be, because then you are able to accurately assess the awful situation that you are in. I had several panic attacks and cried nonstop because I was constantly scared that they would never let me leave. They made me color and play stupid games, and if you refused, they threatened to write you up, which could add more time to your stay. I was eventually realized and I cried through the whole process. I ran and hugged my mom and thought I'd never let go. She smelt like home, a place that started to feel like a distant memory or a dream.

I got home in one piece from the place that was supposed to "help me." But things soon turned sour. The issue of medications came up. I took their pills for a while and couldn't bare it no more. I felt zombified. I felt empty, not depressed, I felt nothing at all. So I quit taking the pills. My mother and I went round and round about the issue. Many fights followed my decision not to take medication. My family keeps a very watchful eye on me. They are paranoid. Every time I laugh too long at a joke or say something stupid they think I'm going manic again. Nothing is the same after an episode.

For me, this is what being bipolar manic feels like. If you have experienced anything close to this, I urge you to get help.