Mania: You Don’t Own Me — Much
I was awake at 2:15 this morning, and again at 4:30. Finally, at 5:30 I got up. I knew that sleep was not coming back. So, I made myself a cup of coffee, wandered into my dark office, and started to work.
See, You Don’t Own Me!
The weird thing is, the things keeping me awake, the thoughts and ideas whirling manically around my head were truly fantastic. They will come together into something I want to do. When I sat down to the computer, they are not what became my focus. I started working on an important task, real work. Maybe that is what being stable and medicated is about; I know, at least sometimes, when the “wrong way” and the “right way” are down different paths on the road. And I know, at least sometimes, when the “wrong way” and the “right way” are very different. Today, at least, I took the “right way”. I said, “You don’t own me!”
There will be a time for the other thoughts, a time when they will be a plan instead of a sleepless fight with myself. For now, I am just happy with the work I accomplished this morning.
Maybe You Own Me — A Little
Still, here I sit, in the same place I have been for the last 10 hours, and I have not eaten or bathed. I am so focused on all of this work that I have neglected getting dressed and caring for my personal needs. Some of the same behaviors that I forget to do or cannot do when I am depressed.
I also forget to do or choose not to do when I am manic. I am running different equations with the same results.
At the top of this browser I see that, regardless of my clean-up ten minutes ago, I still have ten tabs open. Ten tabs of unfinished work because I finally bored of the project started so early this morning. Ten tabs because after I had bored of the project, I started on yet another project and remembered how long it had been since I had posted here. Why won’t this blog would remember to own me a bit more?
Control Is A Lie
When I think I have control or try to convince myself that I own this disease I am embarrassed, deep inside, in the pit of my stomach to realize that I am the one controlled by it, small victories or no. This blog isn’t even the topic about which I sat down to write. That means that when I am finished writing, I will write another blog.
Again I have been asked if I have eaten. Maybe I will do that first. And a shower.