Emotionally, I fear resilience as fleeting. I have the perspective that if I can't maintain this level of function, then I don't have it.

I think that perspective largely comes out of having spent most of my life depressed. It's all going uphill, and I feel like each new fortress I claim, I'm only holding onto by virtue of pushing back an onslaught that would wash away all my progress were I to stop and take a breath.

Always pushing. Always a challenge. Not in a good way. ;)

So it is with trepidation that I'm enjoying the energy I'm having today.

I'm trying to outmaneuver myself and convince myself that just because I do something once doesn't mean that I'm committing to doing it forever, and I can just enjoy that moment without having to defend the castle I've made of sand.

I seem to have re-stabilized over the past several days. I'd been on a dose of 1.5 to 2mg Risperdal. What it took to get me stable was 5mg. I spent two days on 5mg, and was stable for the first time in a few weeks, but spent most of the day sleeping, only getting up for appointments and not really "waking up" until 3pm.

I've dropped back down to 4.5mg Risperdal and added in .5mg Klonopin, which is much more tolerable. Still sleeping more than usual, but not so dramatic like with 5mg Risp.

The thing I'm most happy about right now is that I can trace this to my own naive actions. Its most likely because I smoked pot. It was certainly not the brightest idea I've ever had, but it shouldn't have been *that bad.* But it was *that bad,* and its not a mistake I'm going to make again.

Much better that way than to have had a bad episode like that strike out of the blue. It bodes well for the hope that I won't stray too far from my baseline of needing 1.5mg Risperdal if not majorly antagonized.

I'm finally getting my diet and exercise back in order. Both of those went by the waste side during the episode. I worked out for the first time on Friday, and am having my first calorie restriction day today. I shudder to think of what the scale is going to say, and aim to continue avoiding it for as long as my morbid curiosity will allow ;)

I would normally keep this story to myself, but this seems like something worth spreading the word about.

When I first got diagnosed bipolar, Patri said that he thought that pot contributed to my manic episodes. I went along with it, but was skeptical that it was anything more than a slight enhancer.

So for two years I didn't touch the stuff. Then Patri was out of town, and I happened upon his stash, and I really really really love the stuff and temptation got the better of me.

I had a fun weekend and it wasn't a big deal. So the next week I had just a little bit.

And then a couple of days later, I started the worst mixed state episode I've had, with a little bit of hypomania mixed in, and its been over three weeks and I'm still dealing with the aftermath.

During this time I've talked to a few friends about it. It turns out that out of the few close friends I've mentioned it to, three of them shared with me personal accounts of other friends who were bipolar and had some pot and went off the deep end. Add me and we've got four, and us bipolars aren't exactly that high a percentage of the population.

This mixed state stuff is scary shit.

Patri's addendum: It is difficult to get studies on this, because the causal link goes both ways. People may seek pot or other drugs to self-medicate, and drugs are illegal so there are no randomized studies. But there is some evidence, for example that pot smoking as a teenager increases the later risk of psychosis from schizophrenia/bipolar by 40%-100% (although small in absolute terms).

I just finished reading Beverly Daniel Tatum's book, Why are all the Black kids sitting together in the cafeteria

I found her perspectives very interesting and insightful, including that she answered the title question in a very different way than I had expected.

Something that has been getting under my skin is my response to her assumption that alleviating racism is important for Whites as well as Blacks. (Again, something that I am hesitant to express my feelings about) I personally feel pretty unaffected by racism when I am not actively seeking enlightenment (for myself and others) about it.

Its something that I would like to believe, but is it true?

One way in which it does benefit me is to give me a broader picture of the world. While our own drama is always what is closest to us, getting a sense of being smaller is useful for not drowning in it.

Being bipolar is the majority of my drama of late. Its a very big deal. I could die if it wasn't handled well. And, that doesn't make me different than a lot of other people. People suffer and die all the time.

I used to be so comfortable. There was always margin. I grew up in a very insulated and wealthy neighborhood. Bad things just didn't happen.*

Since these past several years, perhaps starting with the premature birth of my son, I've had much more of an edge. I was so sure that things would be okay. The Stanford doctor asked if I wanted my baby to be part of a clinical trial if he was born premature. I was so certain that it wouldn't happen that I thought it was absurd that the doctor would ask. Of course something that awful wouldn't happen to me!

So now I'm feeling more in touch with life. Being bipolar is certainly one of those things that keeps me perky. Really bad things could really happen. Reality is not safe.


*_{Except for certain patterns that I found traumatizing which I didn't realize weren't normal.}

So I had my first really pronounced mixed state over the weekend.

In a nutshell:

It culminated in two days where I had the worst day watching Tovar ever, couldn't sleep, decided I hate my diet and can't keep it up anymore, wrote a poor innocent girl a really angry paranoid email, decided that I can't handle having kids or being poly, and tried to break up with Patri.

Patri and I are fine, and I can handle life again, thanks to a lot of patience and understanding from Patri and a little pill called Risperdal. I'm more or less stable at this point, although still doing a little leveling out.

I'm on a really high dose of Risperdal right now, and not sure whether my grumpiness this morning and evening have been from too much Risperdal or not enough. I've felt pretty good through most of the day.

These bipolar book authors write so much more about mania than depression. 2 of the 3 I've read were written by bipolars, and the 3rd (The Bipolar Disorder Survival Guide, by David J. Miklowitz, PhD) probably was too for all I know, so it makes sense. Its very fun to reminisce, and manic stunts make for hella good stories ;)

I guess there's just not as much to say about depression. Can only mention that bipolar people often get suicidal when depressed so many times. That's the down side of reading these books. I relate so much to the manic bits, and they're so fun to read, and, I haven't had the major depression yet. I don't think about it most of the time. And Patri thinks I might not even get it. But of course I'm scared. And most likely, I will get it. The pendulum is going to swing the other way, and when it does I don't know if I'll be able to take it. I'm already worn down as it is.

Maybe I should stop reading these damn books. All they do is make me want to be manic and afraid that I'm going to get depressed. Well that's not all they do, but they're certainly effects. Like the book says, I should read it in order to understand what I'm going through, to learn self management techniques to help deal with mood cycles, and to improve my functioning.

I'm not depressed right now, but just thinking about being depressed makes me want to crawl under the covers and die. I'm probably going to get it really bad. And the bipolar depression meds don't help that much.

Alright. Going to try to make it through this book (which I'm just starting), and then no more for a long time. No point in being depressed now about being depressed in the future, that's just depressing ;)

Its annoying, because I think this book is going to mostly tell me things I already know, and I hate slogging through stuff like that, but if there are gems to be found, these are ones that would be very worth finding for me personally.

I tried to get drunk last night. Alcohol hasn't really effected me since I've gotten on Lamictal. Patri read somewhere recently that people on bipolar meds can still get drunk but that it just takes twice as much.

5 or 6 strong jello shots later, I didn't feel anything. I did then feel a little out of sorts going up stairs, and people said that I was making a lot of grammatical errors, but I didn't feel good or even noticeably altered: all I really felt was tired.

So that's it, I'm done with alcohol. I've never been much of a drinker anyway, but since I don't like the taste of alcohol, its a lot of calories, and I only used to drink for the buzz, every effect is now negative.

I finally took the books out of the bookshelf and moved all the crap so that I could really move the bed to try out different configurations. I wish I had someone else as enthusiastic about remodeling as I am: Patri helped me move the things I couldn't move myself, but with much grumbling.

Anyway, I'm finally happy with where my furniture is! Not perfect of course, but good enough. More pictures coming once I take care of the finishing touches. And with a real camera instead of just my phone! Maybe I'll be able to capture the lighting a little bit better.

I'm also now on a self imposed internet shopping ban for the next month and a half. I'm not allowed to buy anything over the internet except for books. I've bought more shit off of Amazon in the past couple of months than in the past couple of years. Not that I'm not thrilled with my purchases, but its getting pretty ridiculous. Not ridiculous by manic standards, but the hypomania needs a cap ;) At least my depressed self will have a glorious place to brood ;)

I think it was the time zone change. I was alright going to London, but coming back I went a long time without sleeping for logistical reasons, which is probably what set in motion the internal reasons for not sleeping.

I guess its a good think I had fun in London, because I probably shouldn't be taking any more 8hr time zone difference trips anytime soon :( I can probably travel long distance again some day with Patri, since he's a lot better at managing logistics than I am. Good thing we're going to have a live in nanny with the next baby, I sure go off the deep end easily when my sleep is f*ed up.

3hrs sleep isn't much for me, even when I am hypomanic. Therefore I'm definitely hypomanic right now. I also just took enough Risperdal and Klonopin to kill a horse (not really, don't worry ;), so I should be asleep very soon. I was looking online for a t-shirt "I'm Manic, What's Your Excuse?," but sadly, for once the internet was not ahead of me. Maybe next time I'm manic I'll design my own t-shirt line... ;)

One of the signs that helps me know that I'm getting hypomanic "high," is that I get this strange bubbly sensation around the palette of my mouth, that is very unique, which I can't describe any better than that. At first I wasn't sure whether it was the hypomania or the hypomania drugs, but at this point I know its the hypomania.

Hopefully the Klonopin kicks in soon, I really need to sleep. And I'm not taking Ambien this time! No silly drunken stunts tonight ;) Perhaps I should think about tossing the Ambien. When I'm hypomanic, I'm very hedonistic, which means that I will do any sort of pleasure seeking. Since I don't allow myself any other "fun" drugs, sleeping pills are the one thing I still allow myself, which means that I abuse them, at a point in time where I haven't realized that I'm getting hypomanic yet.

Then again, at least sleeping pills do knock me out, perhaps its better to have a vice that puts an end to itself than to not allow myself vices and therefore end up desperate and breaking the bigger rules.

Not calming down yet, not going to take Ambien, too energetic to sit still, too tired to concentrate on anything useful. Maybe I'll go walk some laps around the house until the stuff kicks in. I'll make a note of the time here, 9:30. If I'm still high in an hour I'll call my psychiatrist. But I really shouldn't be, its just going to take a little time for things to kick in. Maybe I'll use that energy to get ready for bed ;)

After hardly getting any sleep last night, I got amped up again around what should have been a nap, and ended up going to pick up a Nordic Track instead.

I've still been hemming and hawing about the damn bed headboard. I had these beautiful Ikea lights up before having my ceiling painted blue. The floral stuff doesn't look good with the new theme, but I realized that the ivy leaves are perfect!

I figured I'd change out my current bead frame for a nice solid white one. Nothing that fit the bill that I could find off the net, but I found one that looks nice off of craigslist for $35. I'm going to go check it out tonight. But I got to measuring things this afternoon, and realized that I won't be able to reach my nightstand if I have a standard sized solid headboard. So I'm going to go look at this one, just in case its not too tall, but figure that I'm probably going to end up giving up and just dealing with the beautiful but not perfect bed frame that I have ;)

I think the ivy will actually be a nice blend. Goes well with the Greek/Roman sky and medallion, but is curvy like the lamp and bed frame. So I really just need to give up on having a theme. The ivy'll look nice woven through the current headboard too.

I'd thought I had more ivy lights in storage, but it turns out that I didn't so I was bummed that I only had two strands of the Ikea ivy lights. But I finally managed to locate some on ebay, so my room will be fully ivy'd out ;) And the floral lights will probably end up in the other room, if I still have the energy to carry out my vision in there once I'm not all hyped up on only 3 hrs sleep. Taking lots of bipolar drugs tonight.

Tovar woke me up at 2am, and I still can't get back to sleep. This is really bad for mania, since lack of sleep can bring it on. I just took a sleeping pill, so hopefully that'll knock me out.

On the plus side, with my mind racing, I realized how to work with my room theme. Put my lights back up! I can use just the ivy ones, without the flowers, for that Greek/Roman feel. And this also gives me a theme for the other room. I can use the lights with flowers, and weave them along the wall and through the bed frame, for that foresty feel that I'd originally been going for with the bed frame. syncretin will be happy :)

I'm going to watch craigslist until I find the solid sort of bed frame I want for my room. That should be a good compromise between having a bed frame and not wanting it to be ornate. I can go without for awhile. I think the ivy will so the trick, so I'll give up on finding a roman column for the corner, although you'd be surprised how many columns show up on craigslist! The ones I've found thus far have been reasonably priced, but are either too tall or too short. But I've seen 4 go by in the bay area, having just checked it twice, so I'm betting that I'd get one exactly the size I was looking for in not too long if I kept trying.

That was Patri's summary based on what I'd been telling him. Yesterday I cleared off all of the cluttered surfaces in the living room, cleaned out an overflowing closet that had been building up for two years, put lots of other random crap around the house into storage, etc.

Today I cleaned out my previously stored clothes and threw out half of them and better organized the rest, put away laundry, patched and painted nail holes on the walls, etc.

Patri points out that I also "grumped at him" a lot and was generally surly ;)

Yesterday I was up until 1:30am cleaning, and right now I'm on a roll and ready to stay up til 2.

So as I was telling Patri about this, we both took a deep breath, and I went straight to take a strong dose of meds. Sigh. Its so annoying that what would have in the past been a normal cleaning spree is now a sign of mood disorder. But it is. A cleaning spree I could get over, a hypomania triggered cleaning spree would lead to much more excitement. Its still really hard not to rationalize though. With bipolar there are a lot of moments of "that's just how I am!" Its so insidious. And I know I've said that before, but I just keep rediscovering it over and over, surprised every time.

But hey, the house is clean, and even de-cluttered, spackled, and beautifully decorated!

Our contractor is going out of town for a month, and his helper just found out two weeks ago that he's going to have an unexpected 1 month vacation.

This unexpected vacation means that he's unexpectedly not going to be paid for a month. So, if any of you local people have any work you need done around the house, I can hook you up, he's willing to work for cheap.

This light remodel is getting *expensive.* At least by my standards. I've been engaging in a classic hypomanic spending spree, although at least its "hypo" manic, only spending a little more than I should, and its on our home, which we will be enjoying for at least 10 years or so before moving to a seastead :)

So I'm glad I'm doing it, its great to be living in an excessively nice-excentric home ;)

The latest issue is with the back bedroom. I'd had it painted green, because it was going to look great with the new bed frame I purchased. Since at the last minute I decided not to switch to that bedroom, the fancy bed frame will probably not be going in there. Which means the room is just this weird shade of green. However, now that I've had the hallway painted with gold glaze (which looks great!), I realize that I can have that room painted with silver glaze, for not-really-that-much more than painting it a normal color. So f* it, its going to be shimmery silver-green ;)

But no more! I ordered my fancy ceiling light for the Greek ceiling room earlier today, and that's it! Remodeling expenditures done! ;)

Is it just me, or does someone in this band have bipolar disorder?

They could just be talking about consumerism, but that hardly seems worth writing a personal song about. Sounds to me like a recount of a classic extravagant manic spending spree from a following depressed state.

Of course, between my current experiences and reading Jamison's book I'm biased toward seeing bipolar everywhere right now.

( Want it You got it You’re sorry You bought it You’re sliding Want it You got it You’re sorry You bought it Can’t hide it )

Prior to taking Effexor, I'd only had one very mild hypomania incident that lasted only a few days, about a year before.*

Since my few weeks on Effexor, over the last couple of years, I've been hypomanic often, and it won't go away on its own.

There's this reinforcing nature of mania. Hence why I can't smoke pot. Patri figured out early on that smoking pot is a hypomania trigger for me.** The way mania works is that once the neural pattern starts it takes on a life of its own. So the high doesn't stop once I'm sober.

So maybe that's what happened on a grander scale. Maybe all of this hypomania I've been having is the aftermath of that one initial short lived bought of full blown mania.

* <sub>In retrospect. I had no idea that that initial few day long random high was hypomania until after being diagnosed.

** This started after the that first manic episode. I'd smoked pot before then and never had any after effects.</sub>

Patri is my bedrock. He's so there for me. I've always thought of myself as independent, but I just can't be independent anymore. Mental illness is illness. And I genuinely fall. And he's genuinely there for me. He's capable and on top of his own shit and there for me when I need him.

I've just started reading Kay Jamison's "An Unquiet Mind." She's a famous bipolar professor of psychiatry, and this is her memoir.

She does a lovely job of describing what hypomania is like:

Everything seemed so easy. I raced about like a crazed weasel, bubbling with plans and enthusiasms, immersed in sports, staying up all night, night after night, out with friends, reading everything that wasn't nailed down, filling manuscript books with poems and fragments of plays, making expansive, completely unrealistic, plans for my future. The world was filled with pleasure and promise; I felt great. Not just great, I felt really great. I felt I could do anything, that no task was too difficult. My mind seemed clear, fabulously focused, and able to make intuitive mathematical leaps that had up to that point entirely eluded me. Indeed, they elude me still. At the time however, not only did everything make perfect sense, but it all began to fit into a marvelous kind of cosmic relatedness.

She goes on to say

I found myself buttonholing my friends to tell them how beautiful it all was. They were less than transfixed by my insights into the webbings and beauties of the universe, although considerably impressed by how exhausting it was to be around my enthusiastic ramblings. [...]

She then talks about how she got depressed afterward, and describes the above as "mild mania," "unlike the very severe manic episodes that came a few years later."

( Short recap of the one time I was manic & how I got diagnosed )

I'm very interested to hear Jamison's recount of what full blown mania is like.