Although depression has been the most debilitating symptom in my life, I have experienced periods of mood instability that are startling and unpredictable. Grandiosity and delusions take over my mind. My sleep is disrupted and I feel like I have champagne bubbles in my brain. This alternates with an unbearable irritability. I seem to be the last person to know that I have lost touch with myself. This leaves me struggling at times to trust my enthusiasm or perceptions. I have experienced several hypomanic or manic episodes in my life. They almost always end in depression.
Jesus Christ Superstar
Once, I believed that I was Jesus. In my mind, I was sent to earth to heal the world and bring all people together. I believed I was chosen by God as his daughter to bring about great change. I felt immensely powerful and superior to others. During this time, I looked for signs from God on billboards or in the words that people spoke. I believed I had the power to heal sickness. I thought I could save the world.
My Nobel Prize
When my children were little, I went back to college to take some biology and chemistry courses. During a cell physiology course, I came to believe that I had the ability to cure postpartum depression. I researched the topic day and night. I printed out journal articles, read textbooks, and talked non-stop about my ideas. I believed in my heart that I was going to win the Nobel Prize for medicine for my research despite the fact that I had never stepped foot in a research lab. My judgment became clouded, and a paranoia enveloped my thoughts. I believed that people were trying to steal my ideas. As a result, I stopped talking about them. I researched and brainstormed and even approached my physician about trying a different treatment option that I had come up with. I presented him with the data. Interestingly, he agreed. The treatment, however was not successful.
Changing appearances
I once cut and dyed my hair, from a dishwater blond to a sassy red. I bought short skirts and revealing tops and shoes that made me look like I was walking the streets looking for my next John. I walked around with an exhilarated confidence for weeks. My son, Alex, told me he loved my shoes. My husband said that it wasn’t the shoes he loved, but the bubbly, expansive personality that came with them. I was on top of the world, and the shoes gave me an indescribable feeling of power. I went to my primary care doctor’s office for a follow-up appointment during this time. He expressed concern about the change in my personality and dress. I explained that I just felt exceptionally happy and self-confident and we left it at that. From time-to-time, he brought up that strange appointment and how changed I had been. He knew something wasn’t right.
Homes for the future
My husband told me that I decided to build a house for each of our five children in our yard so that they could live with us forever. I have little memory of this detail, but I do remember building one house. I had never done any woodworking, but I purchased a circular saw and wood and began building a two story house in our front yard right next to a tree. I worked at a feverish pitch for weeks. Although I had no blueprint or experience, I jsimply built. To curb the frenzy, I drank wine on a couple of occasions. It had no affect on the manic energy, but made it dangerous for me to work with a saw.
The neighbors walked by and talked to me a lot. More than usual. They asked questions and accepted my answers, but were back again the next day.
Somehow, I installed windows and a roof on the house. I painted the exterior and savored my genius. I was in fact amazing.
Time passed, and a group of neighbors began asking me when I was going to take the house down. They were kind, but firm, that it had to go. I was forced to admit that I didn’t remember how I had built the house and that I was unsure of how to take it apart. The next day, my next door neighbor came over and disassembled the house.
The tree died from the pressure of the weight of the house resting against it.
The road trip
I hadn’t slept in three days, but I was full of energy and verve. My son had to be driven 5 hours away to summer camp in Iowa, and I set out on the trip with him without a thought for my ability to drive safely. I promised my husband that I would stay overnight in a hotel near the camp.
After we arrived at camp, I helped my son get settled in and then left to find a hotel. I wasn’t tired though. In fact, I felt so full of vitality, that I decided to drive the 5 hours back home. I drove on the highway for over an hour and then realized that I had veered off of the highway and was lost in the countryside somewhere. I had no idea where I was or how to get back to the highway. I didn’t feel afraid, I just turned the car around and tried to find my way back.
Eventually, I found the highway and noticed a hotel. I decided to get a room for the night so that I wouldn’t get lost again. After checking in, I turned on the television. A group of motivational speakers were presenting speeches on topics like success and happiness. I found a notebook in my bag and took copious notes on what was being said. I hung on every word as if these speakers had the keys to changing my life.
I finally fell asleep that night, and checked out of the hotel a more rested version of myself. I still struggled with confusion about where I was driving and how to get home, and I grew irritable and paranoid. I believed that my psychiatrist had given me a medication that had caused me to have this experience. In that moment, I felt like I couldn’t trust her.
In time, I felt better. My sleep stabilized as did my moods. My trip to Iowa became a euphemism for my mental health struggles.
On being a witch
Once, I believed I was the most powerful witch on the planet. I was so high that I barely remember any of what happened. I was convinced that I did not need to read about witchcraft or spells, as I was the divine expert. I searched daily through tree branches to find the perfect magic wand and I still have it.
My powers were so immense that I felt I held the world in my hands. It was exhilarating, frightening … I had never experienced such a loss of control.
I talked non-stop about being a witch. My husband kept telling himself that I was joking. Then he worried that he should take me to the emergency room. He did not know what to do.
I spent over $1200 on witch’s clothing, shoes, and supplies for my altar. In my instability, I wore witch’s clothing and hats in public. I cast spells before job interviews and somehow got hired.
When I began to have the realization that I might not be a witch, I cried. I didn’t want it to be untrue. The leveling off period took months. I had times where the wind continued to whisper witchcraft in my ears. I kept collecting magic wands. I believed and I didn’t believe. I tumbled out of this episode of mania like a waterfall crashing over the rocks: forceful, downward, vagarious in places. I had a hard time finding stability. I will never forget the power of that episode.
Building a Business
I started a publishing company during an episode of hypomania without any previous experience in the publishing industry or a clear understanding of business taxes. During this episode, I learned all that I could about the publishing process, which came in handy, as I wrote two books during hypomanic episodes that I ultimately published myself.
