I have found that "mania" has a life of it's own, in a world of it's own. Like being an alternate personality in an alternate universe. No two are ever the same, although they sometimes share similar characteristics.
I can't tell you when I had my first manic episode. But I can tell you about the strange thoughts that have come over me, throughout life, and the ways that I acted on them. Like the time that I thought I was under government surveillance for about two months. I had begun to take notice of white vehicles with tinted windows. They were everywhere I went, all around me. White vans, SUVs, sedans... any make, any model... and they all had dark tinted windows. They were watching me, following me. I knew, at any moment, a dozen men were going to pop out from somewhere that I least expected, and take me away. I didn't know why they would want me, but I must've done something criminal, because there they were. White vehicles, in the parking lot of my apartment complex, in the neighborhood as I walked my children to school, at the grocery store, and the doctor's office, and beside me at the red light. I was afraid to go outside, to answer my phone, to look out the window. Luckily, this irrational fear came with an enormous embarrassment. I didn't want anyone I knew to know that I was a wanted woman, so I kept it all very secret. Hiding my paranoia, and continuing on with life as usual, pretending that I wasn't completely freaked out every minute of the day, until the day came that I forgot all about white vans with tinted windows, and FBI agents. Then another day came when I remembered what it was that I had forgotten. And I laughed at myself, for being so crazy.
I can tell you about the time when I referred to myself in third person, feeling very much like I had been possessed by a higher being... an angel of God. I was just a kid, though, in middle school, and I had always been kind of a weird kid. I don't know, maybe I was just desperate for attention. I don't even recall the day it stopped, but for several weeks I spoke very softly, and talked a lot about my boss, "JC".
Manic periods, for me, can also bring on a period of hyper-sexuality, which I (and my husband) thoroughly enjoy. But ... and I know it's hard to believe... but there are pitfalls to this, that require skill and dedication to avoid. Before I met my husband, and began learning to control my behaviors, I had fallen into the pits of promiscuity, cheating, and indiscriminate fantasy play. It took a long time to overcome the guilt and shame I harbored because of them.
Another symptom of my manic periods is actually quite productive, and enjoyable. The energy burst, and the explosion of creativity usually leads to an assortment of projects. I'll tear a room apart, repaint, clean, reorganize, and redecorate. I'll pull out my crafting supplies and design a new necklace, mosaic, needle craft, or candle. I'll write one or two chapters of an epic novel, or go back and work on the ones I've already started. I'll start a new blog, or make several posts on the ones I already publish. It all goes well, until the multitude of ideas overcrowds the space in my head, and I struggle to keep up with all of my on going projects.
Warning: crash ahead, expect delays.
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