Where Do I Belong?

Last night I was having a particularly low night.  It wasn’t too low, and it was short, but still the thoughts of vulnerability were there.  I snuggled with my stuffie bear I named Gunnor and wondered, “Where do I belong?”

I had a friend that I was close with for a while and we had great communication, but no more.  He’s off doing his own thing and I’m left behind.  I miss this interaction we had and the critical conversations we often shared.  When I had a thought or an idea I wanted to explore, I would send him an e-mail and get a logical, well thought out, response back that challenged my opinion.  I enjoy this type of mental stimulation and I get bored without it.   I haven’t been able to find this type of communication with anyone else and I miss it.  In a way, I feel lost without it and I wonder if I’ll ever find someone that shares the same motivation to learn and share knowledge the same way he did.

All of these thoughts made me depressed but I still had an overall sense that I was okay.  The Seroquel my psychiatrist prescribed has started to take its effect along with the Lexapro I’ve been taking.  I noticed that I’m much calmer and not so manic lately.  My moods feel as though they are stabilizing now and not swinging so wildly like they were.  I know I’m sad but I still have underlying feelings of happiness and the feeling that everything will be okay.  It’s strange how medication can alter our neurochemistry and make us feel this way.

I’ve also noticed that my introversion is becoming stronger now that my disposition is mellowing out.  I find more and more that I don’t need, or want, to talk to anyone.  I sit at work content to do my job while interacting with as few people as possible.  In the evenings, I go home and make my dinner then read while being satisfied to live in my own bubble.  The word truly is “contentment”.  I am not starving for outside communication, or the need to interact with anyone else.  I am enjoying being alone, knowing the world is just outside going on without me and knowing that I could step into it at any time I choose.  I equate this to sitting at a sidewalk café watching the people walk on by, knowing I could join in at any time, but I’m simply happy here sipping my coffee alone and reading a book.  I’m good with letting the world continue to spin without my interaction.

Weekend recap:

This weekend was the 12-hour race at Sebring International Raceway.  This is where Mickey wanted to have his ashes be laid to rest.  I got there and immediately got lost.  Brian paid for a parking pass but I decided to use the free parking outside the track.  He found his way back to turn 10 while I had to walk the entire raceway which is a daunting task to place to navigate to begin with and was leaving me anxious.  Halfway there, I realized I had a small blister forming on the side of my foot that made it difficult to walk which left me even more frustrated than I already was at the moment. 

To get to the infield where Brian had parked, I had to cross over a car bridge with no foot traffic allowed.  The mean police officer yelled at me as I was trying to walk up and ask him how to get across.  He roughly turned me around and told me to wait by the tree and hitch a ride over the bridge.  As I walked up to this tree, I felt tears forming because the anxiety was building and I knew I couldn’t have a break down here, alone.

I stood by the tree and watched vehicle after vehicle cross the bridge and considered who I could ask to give me a ride over the bridge.  I finally gathered myself together and ran up to a large SUV that had his window rolled down and asked for a ride.  Before I even got my question out, he told me to get in the back.  I was stunned.  As I explained to him this was my first time at the track and why I was here, he told me that people do this sort of thing all the time and not to worry.  I felt relieved.  He even asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere on the other side but I jumped out at the base of the bridge.  That was definitely a new experience.

I finally found Brian and Lynn and said hi to Mickey inside Brian’s bag.  We watched the race for a while and then decided to go for a walk.  We found ourselves on a nice bluff between turns three and four where we sat and watched the race for a while longer.  Brian scooted down to the base of the bluff, punctured a hole in Mickey’s bag and laid his cremains out in the grass.  No one said a word to us.  We sat back on the bluff again and watched people walk around his ashes and the race in front of us for a while before deciding to get up and walk around again.

When we found our way back to turn one, and the main strip, I decided it was time for me to go.  My foot was sore and I was tired.  I made my way back to my car and drove away from the track leaving Mickey behind.  I cried most of the way northbound on Hwy 27 out of Sebring.  I kept thinking that he was being left behind and alone.  It was a terrible feeling to have and I couldn’t stop the tears.

I spent the next day with a friend.  We went to the Improv to see Christopher Titus perform.  I had a heavy heart, but the comedy was good.

Being Manic

Most people don’t understand what it is like to live with a mood cycling disorder so let me give you a little taste of what the roller coaster we suffer from on a daily basis.  For months I’ve been depressed with feelings of isolation, grief, loneliness and complete despair.  It’s caused me to push away the people that love me the most and withdraw from the world around me.  It makes me see a delusional reality filled with distrust, anger and cynicism.

Recently the fear of losing an important relationship caused me to snap out of this depression streak.  Overnight I went from a moody, depressed, and miserable existence to one filled with happiness, hopefulness and the feeling of being giddy all the time.  It was like a light switch that was flipped in my brain.

My thoughts come rapidly like a freight train that is careening off course, or better multiple freight trains.  I have a tremendous amount of energy that I cannot contain.  My speech is rapid and my hands flail all over the place as I talk.  I don’t quite have grandiose thoughts but they are up there.  I act on impulse rather than thinking through my decisions in an analytical fashion and I don’t worry about the repercussions.  In other words, I feel like I am flying and I don’t want to come down.

As for chemically what is happening in my brain, I have an excess of serotonin and norepinephrine running free.  These two hormones are what creates the manic state in a person that has bipolar disorder.  The serotonin is necessary but there are not enough receptacles to attract the serotonin and therefore it produces the elated feelings.  This also increases the norepinephrine which results in the erratic behavior that I experienced along with the increased heart rate and blood pressure.

When a bipolar patient is experiencing the depressed side of the spectrum, the serotonin levels are very low and there are too many receptacles waiting for the brain to release more of this hormone.  The reduction of serotonin causes the negative feelings, the lack of enthusiasm and dreads the goes along with depression. 

While it is easy to discuss the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain, the resulting emotions are much more difficult to describe.  When I am manic like I am today I feel like I want to bounce off the walls.  I laugh easily and there is not enough stimulation in the world to keep my attention.  I want to run and jump and play and be happy.  I don’t want to think about anything that can ruin this high nor do I want to control it.  I just want to be free.

As I meander through this stage I am very much aware of what is happening to me.  It’s like I am a bystander watching my life careen out of control as if I’m having an out of body experience.  I’m watching myself from above with no care to stop myself.  This part of me that is floating above me just watches and waits for that next moment that is going to bring me crashing back to earth.  Eventually it will happen.  Something will hit me and reverse the chemical reaction in my brain to make me depressed again.  It’s just a matter of time.  So until then, I will enjoy this ride for all it’s worth.

Love and Grief

Often there are moments just after my mind wakes but my body hasn’t fully begun to function that I lay in bed and ponder such things as why am I here and why am I the way I am.  These few moments in the morning give me a time to be introspective and contemplate the world around me.  I also take these few moments and think on more spiritual thoughts as well.  Sometimes these thoughts make me happy; more often than not these thoughts make me sad and emotional.

As I consider recent events in my life I have to ask myself why people gravitate toward one another.  What is the meaning of love and why do we look for it in every corner and every person?  Recently I’ve been re-examining the idea of love and relationships and what I need from another person.  It seems that no matter what happens, every relationship is going to end and hurt at some point.  Why do we continue to do this to ourselves?  Why do we inflict so much pain on each other?  Are we all serial masochists and don’t realize it?

Every relationship will eventually end.  That’s what my therapist taught me.  As harsh as it is, those were his exact words.  I was shocked and stunned by his frankness on the subject.  How can he say these things to me when I’m grieving the loss of so many people and relationships?  I had to stop and consider this theory, and as analytical as I am, I realize he’s right.  Every relationship we have with someone will end.  Whether it is by death of one person or because one person no longer wanted to be in the relationship, it will end.

It saddens me to realize how true these words are, especially for me.  Sometimes I think the loss that I’ve experienced is insurmountable and I cannot function.  I wonder how it is that I go on living my life day to day with this terrible feeling.  The grief that I carry around with me engulfs me on a daily basis.  It’s become my shelter, my shield, and my protector.  It keeps me from forming long-lasting bonds with people, and when I do push aside grief to let someone into my life, I end up ruining it in some way.  I don’t realize this is what I am doing until it is too late and the damage is done.  It just happens.

This morning grief and I had a conversation.  He reminded me that I am alone and that he will always be with me to share in my troubles and help me find the dark places in my soul.  I took comfort in knowing that grief will not leave me as he will continue to be there for me to help me detach when I attempt to let another person love me.  He will be there like a black knight to protect me from further injury to my soul and remind me that this relationship will destroy itself like all others and not to get attached.

I finally got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen.  I need that morning pleasure of coffee to comfort my soul.  I stand in the kitchen and water Shyla, my eastern lily that was given to me when my dog Shyla passed.  She’s been growing so big lately that I had to repot her into a bigger pot.  I take a few moments to think back to a happier time when I felt like I could move forward; a time I wasn’t so paralyzed.  I let the moment pass in fear the sadness will be overwhelming.  I curl up in bed with my morning yumminess and I grab for my pills, these pills that keep my heart rhythm from becoming out of whack, and I realize I’m missing one.  How long has it been since I’ve had my anti-depressant? 

As I sit in the dark sipping my coffee that is quickly turning cold, I think about why it is I take the anti-depressant.  Am I fooled as much as every other American in the belief that I can take a magic pill and it will suddenly make me happy again?  Maybe I should just stop taking it and let the depression engulf me.  It is after all where I find I am most comfortable.  My depression has a way of keeping people at arm’s length and maybe that is for the better.  It keeps me isolated and anti-social so that I don’t have to talk to people, nor do I want to talk to others.

My coffee is cold.  The air is cold.  My room is dark.  The world is silent.  My bed is comfortable.  I’ll just stay here today and let the world go on without me.