Going into a manic state is like coming up for air. You’ve been underwater so long that your lungs feel like they’re getting ready to burst but then you come back to the surface and you can breathe again. I hit my manic state a day or two after spring break ended. And I cried. I was so relieved. I didn’t think my depressive state was ever going to end.
Everything feels easier when it’s over–writing, thinking, even breathing is easier. Maybe my writing does get better when I’m in my depressive state but even opening my laptop feels draining. Ten minutes of writing and I’m absolutely spent. Being in a manic state does have its downside, but the burst of energy I get when it happens is very needed. Honest to God, I don’t know that I would have been able to finish my thesis if I hadn’t come out of my depressive state. I finally finished it this week, thanks to that burst of energy.
The more I learn about my disorder, the more I have come to develop a love/hate relationship with it. It is absolutely exhausting to live day-to-day, wondering when the next depressive stage is going to hit. You know you have to get as much done as you can before then. You’ve got to write like you’re running out of time. I wouldn’t wish this disorder on my worst enemy, but on some level I need to accept that this is who I am because I would not be the writer that I am without it.
I’ve come up for air; I need to fill my lungs before I go back under.