Things began shifting again. I felt myself leveling into a new period of stability and was relieved to shed myself of the paranoia, anxiety, and depression of the previous weeks. My sleep continued to be a problem, as I was waking up at 4 a.m. on a regular basis. Still, I had more energy to take care of the chores around the house and by mid-day found myself in the laundry room sorting clothing. That’s when it happened.
I believed my doctor’s nurse began laughing about me behind my back and I could hear the whispers of her laughter in my ears from the laundry room in my house. I became unglued. I was angry, frightened, and upset. The belief lasted for several hours, and was terrifying to live through. Even though it is behind me, I can still hear the laughter in my ears. It was a powerful and uncomfortable period of paranoia, and not one I am likely to forget anytime soon. My fears of being ridiculed and belittled came true in those moments, and the coping skills the therapist gave me were of little use.
I went for dinner with a friend later that night, but it was hard to focus and concentrate on the conversation. I felt self-conscious and nervous. I found myself sweating and shaking. It was difficult for me to enjoy myself.
I began writing furiously again … a book about bipolar disorder. I purchased multiple websites again and spent days building them into the presence I wanted. I don’t know how many websites I built. More than ten. I started staying up all night again to work on these projects. One morning at 3 a.m., I put together a writer’s CV and a portfolio and applied for a job as a professional writer. I was asked to follow up with a written assignment but I hadn’t slept in 30 hours. The quality was poor, and I didn’t get the job, which was a good thing because I don’t want to write 8 hours/day. I am happy with my writing job that allows me the flexibility to write whatever and whenever I choose.
My moods slowly began to level off again, but this time it was more painful. I woke up one morning crying and spent the day on the sofa playing on Facebook on my phone. I was sad and depressed for several days. The depression slowly lifted and I began to feel more stable. I felt well from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. and then anxiety and depression swept in to keep me company. My afternoon depression and anxiety slowly lifted, but I was left with an overall stable but low feeling.
During this time, I took control of my self-care. After attending a DBSA meeting and talking about hygiene, I was given some great suggestions including rewarding myself for meeting my psychiatrist and I’s goals and setting a time to shower and walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on. The best advice I heard though was that my struggle with self-care was not intrinsic to who I was. I was not bad or lazy for not being able to brush my teeth or shower. These were symptoms of a disorder … nothing more than information to share with my doctor so she could help me. This is where the healing began.
