Ah, mania. It’s that cunning Cheshire Cat whispering in your ear saying it’s ok to let you’re primal side come out to play.
The Dark Abyss is far easier to assign words to. We choke on our desperate emotions. My husband says I commonly shutdown when I’m in that place. I don’t want to talk because I feel everything and my thoughts are drawn out, in slow motion.
But I’m not in that place right now and I do relish the brief respite. I am, however, running my finger up the other side of that double edged sword pressing just a little too hard and watching as the smallest red cut emerges.
I’m not a cutter. It doesn’t excite or entice me nor does it hold any allure, but the visual certainly applies.
I clicked on an interesting blog a few days ago. The author had written about mania but used pictures to describe the swing. It was an intriguing thing to see because I have always felt the only way I could describe it is through music and photos. Mania had been tapping on my shoulder in the preceding days.
I felt some comradery in her illustrations but they didn’t quite fit with what emerges inside me. So I decided to put together my own version of my mania.
I do want to preface my version of mania with some of the things it is not to me.
My mania has never convinced me I’m a superhero. It’s never caused me to go broke, though it has tightened the budget a little. I am not prone to fits of rage and anger. These symptoms just don’t fit me
I call Mania mine because I think it manifests a little differently in everyone. This is everything that comes with my own and I will do my best to briefly describe the meaning of the illustrations I chose.
Everything inside is on fire but it doesn’t kill me. It heats and brings my thoughts to a rapid boil. My body begins to move in a more serpentine manner. My curves feel alive. Everything is brighter as the flame turns to blue.
There is a feeling of transforming into someone else – someone who is much less inhibited, arrogant and animalistic.
The only things I crave more than desire, passion and erotic release is to be the catalyst for those things in others. My manic brain feeds on it. I need it to survive and it’s almost never enough. The term commonly used for this is hypersexuality. I’m not a fan of the definition though. Its never been about multiple partners or casual sex, which is part of the definition of the word. For me, it’s most simply being desired and desiring someone else on a primal level. It’s also about being completely transparent about your desires.
Everything is white or black despite my world being a more colorful place. Happy must be elation; anger must be rage; attraction must be infatuation; and love must be undeniable passion.
When I’m manic, it’s really the best time to ask me questions – or so Ive said. The reality is, most should probably shy away. It’s during mania that I will express, unfiltered, my expectations, loves and disappointment in others. These things are usually tempered but not during mania.
This one is the most difficult to put into words. It reminds me of the full transformation or the climax of mania itself. My interpretation of this is Mania, in physical form, rising from the carnage and ruin she has caused. She tastes it and devours it as she emerges.
My body becomes an obsession. I will have perfection. My face must be flawless, nails must be perfect, hair laying just right and skinny, skinny, skinny. I can lose 20 lbs. during mania for two reasons. First, I often move more and quicker. I eat less because the desire to be doing something else is so strong. The mantra, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels,” is stuck on repeat. The other reason is body obsession. I don’t care how bad it is for me, I will do whatever it takes to look the way I want.
Music. Loud. Hard.
The photo that is most telling is this. The dual sides of my Bipolar. On the left is depression and the right, mania.
Of course there are other aspects to my mania but those come to mind now. When most people think of mania, they think of a fun, almost cartoon version, existence laced with random and emotionless or reckless sex. Most think we enjoy every second of it. For me, it’s none of those things. It’s what I listed above. My mania looks nothing like public perception. It looks nothing like this …