Sunday, October 21, 2012

Mania Seems to be Creeping In...And Thanks for the Nastygram This Morning, Guy!

This is my 500th blog post on this site. 500 rat-a-tat-tats. 

I'm celebrating by entering into a hypomanic episode and it's almost 3am and I haven't been to bed yet. I'm not even really drowsy, though I took my massive cocktail of medications at 8pm. Luckily, I don't have to be up at any certain point tomorrow.

I have a crippling phobia about insomnia. It started about 3 years ago. I had one spell when I was newly working at my job, and I hadn't slept in 36 hours straight. I managed to get myself to my family doctor, who Rx'd me Estazolam, a benzodiazepine. That worked. It's an off-brand use, but it's also used to curb my generalized anxiety disorder, so I take 1mg up to 3 times a day and 2mg at bedtime. It's been working well since I started taking it, not requiring harder sleeping pills like Ambien or Restoril.

While I slept until 9:30 this morning, which is very unusual for me, what's more unusual is the fact that I'm still wide awake. I hate tossing and turning, because my mind is racing. My heart is racing. Why should I lie there and torture myself if I can't sleep?

Perhaps my body is saying "Um, we really didn't need ALL that sleep you were getting during your depressive here, let's keep you awake half the night instead. Literally, the last few weeks I'd succumbed to 4 or 5 hour naps during the day when I was home from school. It was insane.  While I don't necessarily feel like I could conquer the world at this juncture, once the mania really hits, damn, at least I'll get my homework done and my exam for Monday studied for. Unfortunately, I'll probably forget most of what I studied and you know me and multiple-choice tests. Ack.

I was having the freakiest nap dreams, too. Totally weird shit about pretty much everybody. It's worthy of mention, which Luke noted the other day, that the video of my ex-boyfriend that's on YouTube, of him blah-blah-blahing about marketing strategies still has 0 likes, 3 dislikes, and the comment I posted (under my own name) which said that he was a sociopathic, chronic domestic abuser was still on the video. That's good, because I was having scary dreams about HIM again.

Thank God my yoga DVD is on its way, the one Steven recommended, that he's been using for 5 years straight. He said it totally changed his life. He's so lean and trim and muscular now, damn, he looks terrific. Apparently, I am to try the spine series first, according to him, so that's what I'll do.

If I'm rapid cycling, fine. I'll have probably a good week's worth of mania before I crash or stabilize, whichever happens first. I hope it's the latter. If I'm ultradian cycling (mood swings every few hours), I could very well be boppin' around getting all kinds of things done and in the middle of the fury, declare myself a total loser, lie down on my bed and spend the next 5 hours unconscious. We'll have to see how "later today" goes.

The Offbeat Drummer is going to try to lie down and get cozy to sleep.

Sunday, 11:00 am:

Maybe not manic, but definitely disjointed. Out of sorts.

Kate had been up til all hours painting, so we texted back and forth for a while. Mostly about why I wasn't asleep.

I went to bed at 4am and I think I fell asleep pretty quickly. Awakened at the not-unreasonable hour of 10:30, whereupon my mom came into my room to make sure I was still alive. So I got 6 hours of sleep. Why must the world assume I am dead when I sleep late?

Woke up to a very brief nastygram from Guy Friend, who no doubt was churching it up this morning, as John Lennon's "How Do You Sleep?" was, in bitter irony, the first song that shuffled in iTunes this morning. Essentially, in 2 sentences, he said he'd try to get through my emails later today, some of which directed him to certain recent blog entries, as he hadn't checked his email in a week and out of his 127 emails, he did notice a few bearing my name, after which he told me I should "go to church and pray I pass statistics."  I replied with "You're all heart" and told him about my sleep issue and why *I* wasn't going to church this morning. Then I, in very few words, described the utter irony of "How Do You Sleep?" playing within the context of his nastygram. I told him my favorite line is, "The sound you make is Muzak to my ears." I doubt he's familiar with the song. But should he visit this entry, oh my, Guy, this one's for you:

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