Down to Earth

Yes, boys and girls, it’s over. The last of the mania is gone, and now I am so down to earth that I feel like a total SLUG. Slime trails and all.

No, seriously… just about took an act of God to haul my heavily medicated ass out of the bed this morning, even though I’d certainly had adequate sleep. I can’t even remember the last time I slept more than six or seven hours. But it felt like I’d only slept for a few minutes when Will came to wake me up for work at 7:30, and no sooner had he left me alone in the bathroom with my coffee and the newspaper than I fell asleep. On the toilet. With bare feet on an ice-cold floor.

Not that it hasn’t happened before; it’s an occasional event that occurs whenever I take my meds too late and get up too early. (Not that that should be an issue from now on since I’m this middle-aged teenybopper with a curfew of 11:30 PM.) I’ve never fallen OFF the pot—thank heaven for the ability to correct my posture, even in my sleep!—but it’s still pretty undignified to awaken and find that your legs are asleep, and the toilet seat and your butt have become one.

But even as late as nine AM, when I was starting my med pass, I was still trying to clear my head and not doing a very good job of it. I felt like everything had slowed down to a crawl: my speech, my reaction time, and very definitely my thought processes. In a sense, it wasn’t a bad thing because I was actually able to focus on what I was doing, and ironically enough, I got it done faster than usual because I wasn’t bouncing around all over the place.

Still, I’m not a big fan of life as a zombie, even though I’m really NOT over-medicated considering the circumstances. I snuck a short nap in between the time I went home and the time I had to go back to do an afternoon admission (so much for not getting any this weekend like they promised me), but now bedtime is an hour away and I’m actually looking forward to it.

Funny how this feels almost like depression. It’s not, of course; rather, it’s like having a high fever which drops to normal, and suddenly you’re freezing. I tend to have what’s called a “hyperthymic” personality anyway, meaning that my default mode is jovial and I like to keep things light and fun; now that my mania has gone back to wherever it hides when I’m not using it, I feel almost as though this is an over-correction when it’s really not. (Hey! Now that was a cool little piece of insight…..yep, I’m baaaaaaaaaack!)

About this curfew business, I’m still not sure…..but with the holidays coming up and all the overstimulation they bring, I’m willing to go along with it if it keeps me even halfway stable. I love Thanksgiving and Christmas, with their lights and gifts and food and celebrations with loved ones…..and it’s the one time out of the whole year that I get to shop till I drop without ever having to say “I’m sorry”. But I do tend to get overwhelmed easily, and with this holiday season being perhaps the most important one of my husband’s entire life, I don’t want to spoil it for him by having some kind of meltdown.

`yawwwwwwn` Think I’m gonna finish this up and peruse Facebook for a few minutes before I toddle off to bed. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be as groggy. I hope!


Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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