Sometimes life becomes too overwhelming and I lose control, i.e. the record player flips and starts playing the A-side tracks more and more. It glitches and the music spirals into what feels like a never ending repeat of destructive songs.
I spoke to my older brother about how I was feeling recently, and he told me it sounded like I had been languishing, I wasn’t depressed, or at least didn’t feel depressed. I certainly can’t remember a point where I was particularly sad, helpless or suicidal. I was just apathetic to life and in a constant state of mental inertia.
If I could make one point to remember, it’s that mania is far more dangerous than depression. It shouldn’t be celebrated as something fun or novel. It’s dangerous and it can kill people.
Although I don’t practice mindful meditation daily, I incorporate mindfulness into my life now more than ever. I find it particularly useful during stressful periods.
If I were to summarise a psychotic episode, I’d say they’re like being in a living nightmare. All your worst fears and insecurities come out in all their forms.
He passed away the night before my 21st birthday, and just days before I had a psychotic relapse.
For me my mental health is like a muscle. Sometimes it needs to tear in order to grow stronger, and more stable.
I would toss and turn, listen to music, attempt meditation techniques. Nothing helped. It then came to my attention that perhaps sleep was no longer necessary for me. After all, I didn’t feel tired at any point throughout the night. My thoughts were getting faster and faster and I felt good.
I drank a lot of alcohol. However, I felt incredible, and I felt confident, strong and unstoppable. I was what people would describe in the social context, as ‘on form’.
I was beyond reasoning with. I was irrational. And ultimately I was psychotic. This was serious.