The Taunting Memories of Mania

I've been taking some new supplements.  I don't think I can ever go off the Lithium but it's the Seroquel that I can't stand.  The sedation, the odd night time behaviour followed by my inability to wake up in the morning, but the worst part of it, the part that I hate more than anything, is the memory loss.  It's bad enough that I feel crazy 95% of the time but then stupid on top of that-really?  I was taking Provigil in the morning to help wake me up and get me out of bed but as a result I felt speedy, kept getting headaches and couldn't quit smoking, which triggered my chronic bronchitis.  Jesus.  So I started taking some supplements for my depression and constant fatigue and I feel wonderful, alive...happy.   But then I begin to wonder, am I too happy?  Am I manic?

I don't feel numb.  I don't feel speedy.  When I got laid off of my full time job on Thursday, my first thought was, how will I deal with this?  What will my plan of action be?  What are the worst case scenarios and how will I cope with them?  It seems pretty dam sane, really.  Yet, one of the girls today at my serving job told me I seem like I'm tweeking.  Yes, I feel giddy and silly and on top of the dam world, but FUCK why the hell not!  I've spent the last 20 years falling in and out of depression and living in blind fear of the next time it would happen again.  Is it so bad to want to enjoy this?!  Maybe I've simply become so jaded by this mental illness that I am just that much inclined to label happiness as mania.  Perhaps I am a little overzealous and unpredictable but there are worse things.  I have memories of my mania and not a day goes by that I am not mortified by them.  If I am manic, God help the people around me.

My Mother's Wedding, July 2000

I refuse to shave my legs, even if I am the maid of honor.  I have principals, she doesn't understand that.  I will shave my arm pits, simply because her and one of the bridesmaids begged me to, but that is as far as I'll go. 

Today she gets married and I will make it more special for her than anyone.  I'm going to help her feel as if my grandpa is still alive and that he is there with her today.  She is going to love it!  I made copies of all the pictures of him that I could find and even bought cheap frames so that they stand up nicely, as if he is looking right at her.  This will be the most memorable day of her life, I'll make sure of it.  She needs to know how much I love her.

Finally at the church!  I'm so excited!  I bring my bag full of pictures of my grandpa.  I have 9 total!  That should be enough to surround the entire room.  I walk into the dressing room where her and the bridesmaids are helping her get ready.  It makes me mad, I should be the one by her side helping her get ready.  I'm 19 and just because I was hospitalized twice this year, does not mean I am incompetent.  It's fine, let it go!  I have something better.  I start to run circles around the room placing framed photos of my dead grandfather in every corner and open space I can find.  I tell her he is with her and am sure she will cry tears of joy, then hug me for my thoughtfulness.  Then I stop.  I look around the room at the horrified faces and watch my mother put her freshly makeuped face in her hands as tears start to pull her mascara down her cheeks and she begs me to put them away.  Her bridesmaids stare at me in disbelief.  This is going all wrong.  What did I do? 

I don't want to go back to that, but I ache for a sense of happiness and commonality.  Like those people that walk down the streets smiling as if they are so thankful to be alive.  The people that shake off the negativity as if it were no greater of a threat than a butterfly on their shoulder.  They laugh at objectionable behavior and shed a tear for injustice, but go on their merry way in the end of it all.  The ones who have gifts and know what they are and embrace, nurture, and flaunt them.  Those in this world with one simple, beautiful thought at a time.  To live with out shame would be my greatest achievement and most commendable loss.  Well, perhaps I am on my way, but if not, at least I'll have a dam good story to tell.