As I’ve said before there is more to mania than just feeling good. It’s a complicated symptom of bipolar. When someone asks me “What’s it like to be manic?” I have to really think about it. There’s so much to it, I can’t sum it up in a couple of sentences. It goes through many stages, with different symptoms appearing, disappearing and resurfacing again.
One of the major parts of mania for me is anger. I’m not talking about irritability, like you can have with depression. What I mean is real, intense anger. My partner and I have coined the phrase ‘KatieRage’TM to describe these moments. I turn into an entirely different person, I’m completely unrecognisable.
It’s like a constant itch I can’t scratch. I can’t seem to find any relief from the anger I’m feeling.
I have a scar on my right knuckle from when I punched the wall. I hit it so hard, I left a dent in the bedroom wall. You’d think something unbelievably dramatic had happened to make me do that wouldn’t you? In reality I’d found out I didn’t get the day off work, so I couldn’t go to a party. That’s it. I get stuck in a loop of anger. One little thing will trigger it and then, I can’t move on from it. It just keeps going around and around in my head, until I found an outlet for it.
Delusional thinking can be another aspect of mania. I’ll believe I’m the most important person in the room. Actually I’ll know I’m the smartest, most valuable person on the planet. Anyone that disagrees with me is wrong. Anyone that calls me out is an idiot. Even when the right answer is staring me in the face I won’t believe it. I have to be right, because nothing else would make sense.
The anger leaks through to my delusional thinking. Because I feel that I can do no wrong, when I see people doing something differently to me, or not listening to my opinions, it makes me extremely angry. I feel like there is a tremendous pressure in my head that can only be released by me screaming, shouting, ranting and raving.
Along with delusional thinking, people with mania may also see, hear or feel things that aren’t really there. I’ll hear voices that are sometimes comforting, but mostly they drive my manic behaviours. They push me to take risks and do things I wouldn’t normally do.
Overspending. Not “Whoops I lost track of how much I spent on Saturday night” I mean serious, crippling debt. Making the choice between the gas meter and food, sort of debt. Bailiffs at the door kind of debt.
It’s a compulsion I can’t control. I know I don’t have enough money to cover my spending, but I don’t think about the consequences. Mania makes me believe that everything will sort itself out, that it doesn’t matter.
As a young person with bipolar, I was free to collect as many credit and store cards as I wanted. At one point I had four credit cards and three store cards, all spent to their credit limit. I’m still paying them off years later. I got to the point when I would regularly go beyond my overdraft limit and had literally nothing to fall back on.
Mania varies for everyone that experiences it, but for each individual it’s a complex set of symptoms. Listen to people’s experiences of mania and ask how you can support them. Whether it’s keeping an eye on significant changes to their behaviour, or their spending, small gestures can make a positive impact.