Apr 20, 2021
Meeting with the beast: my first mania episode
Last time I was writing about my depression. After I recovered from it I lived a wonderful life for two years and even was able to give birth to my beautiful son. And after delivery, a new episode happened.
It starts with a sleepless night. Even though I was taking enough pills to sleep well. Thoughts are rushing through my mind like crazy. I don’t feel pain or discomfort; my body is light and robust and capable of anything. I am flying around with incredible lightness. Everything is easy and I see the world through pink glasses. I am super confident; everything is possible, I can manage anything I want.
Then it is hard to manage my thoughts and impulses. I talk to everyone; I connect with strange people naturally, like they are my old forgotten friends. I wrote about my ideas and plans to different people searching for support. I feel overwhelmed with a spectrum of emotions that I am experiencing every second. I stop being in control of my feelings; they take control over me. This is where problems are starting. I stop listening to myself; I am judging by my emotions. I go to a store to buy some essential things, and end up with a check ten times bigger than it should be. Then I start buying things online, ordering expensive closing and new cars. God bless, my accounts were blocked, and all orders were cancelled.
My ideas were becoming bigger and bigger. At first, my mind produced ideas for my art projects. Then, I started to think of some greater things, projects that require many people, and start experiencing grandiosity. One night I realised that I should become a president. I started sacredly believe that this is my mission, and I will do everything to achieve it. A few days later, I felt something crazy. It felt like I connected to every piece of the universe. I felt every particle from distant galaxies to the sun and core of the Earth. I understood everything, my worldview puzzle was complete. God spoke to me, and I understood that I am a part of him. And that I am on this planet to help him fix everything. He told me not to say this to anyone and to do my things quietly.
This is where I lost my mind. I can hardly remember the following days. I gathered some information from my calendar and camera roll, but these are just tiny bits of the whole picture. I lived in my new reality, and when someone was trying to return me back to the real world — I started to be aggressive. In the end, I become so violent so I tried to hit my husband, and he called the police. I denied that I am crazy, I was sure that I am totally fine, and there is something wrong with others. But the police took me to the hospital. I was convinced that after talking with the psychiatrist, they would release me back home. But they told me that I need to stay at the hospital. I was so shocked! How they dare to put me, a good person and a mom of a tiny baby, into a hospital. I became mad; I started screaming, I started fighting, I wanted my freedom back. Hospital workers injected sedative and restrained me to the bed. At that moment, I didn’t understand why they were so rude. But right now, I know that there were no other options.
It took me about three days in isolation to understand everything that happened. And a week more to return to my normal self. It was a hard journey; I was transitioning from my dream world to harsh reality. At first, I saw everyone as an enemy. I was finding comfort only in conversations with other patients at the psychiatric unit. But working with my emotions allowed me to speak normally with my loved ones. It was also hard to let go of all my crazy ideas and convince myself that they were just a byproduct of my ill mind.
I remember the day when I felt tiredness and pain in my body; it was a good sign, I could percept myself adequately. It was a blessing; mania left not only my mind but my body too.
But still, it’s so hard for me to think about all that. I’m trying to think about it as a bad dream. But I know all that happened to me was real. It was so hard to move on, knowing that something like this can happen to me again. But now I have more knowledge, more understanding of how to cope with such things. Also, more support from psychologist and psychiatrist, my family and friends. But even like this, I am full of fear of facing mania again.
