Are you listening?
I don’t know everything. No one can possibly know everything and yet, over the years, many people have accused me of being a “know-it-all”.
I suppose their deduction would be appropriate for when I am in the throes of hypomania. During those times I am righteously confident about everything I do and or say. Who dare question my proclivity for being pushy emphatic?
Usually no one.
Most often hypomania is a “positive” to the one experiencing it and even [sometimes] for those experiencing it through someone else. A hypomanic bipolar person is usually quite sure of themselves, happy, energetic and fun to be around. Dynamic is not so farfetched a description.
For someone with bipolar, hypomania is typically when we feel normal. We feel “good” because it is a reprieve from the insanity of the uber highs and the hellishness of the deepest lows.
When we are hypomanic we can finally function and function well. In fact, during periods of hypomania we often function better than most “normal” people. Many of us do our best and most memorable work when we are hypomanic.
On the flip side, we can also be abrasive, short, scattered and overwhelming, especially if we have been experiencing hypomania for many consecutive days.
What’s worse is there is an invisible door that leads to absolute madness and rarely – if ever, does one know when they will walk through it.
How and when we find our way out is equally mysterious.
The time spent in between those two doors can vary; each episode is its own and can last mere minutes to hours or perhaps [in some cases] days.
Madness has no expiration date. It also, usually, has no memory.
Recovery after psychosis can take up to a year for some. Severe depression is usually the immediate aftermath for those who have experienced a break from reality. In other words, what goes up, must come crashing mercilessly down.
Bipolar doesn’t apologize no matter how many times we have to. It leaves us as broken as the things and relationships it makes us destroy. No one apologizes to us although some may feel sorry for us; most just turn their backs and walk away. Some, who are even less kind, harass and humiliate us because of their inability to understand and accept that whatever “it” was wasn’t really our fault.
I’ve read lots of things from other people who have bipolar. Very rarely do their stories include a breakdown of their ultimate breakdown.
Considering most of us regain reality with total or near total amnesia of the event it is no wonder. How can we tell our version of what happened when we only have other people to tell us their version of what happened?
That’s a good question…
Your take is one that I — or any bipolar person who has freaked out in your presence, has to rely on. Of course your take on the event will naturally be tainted by your fear, anger and probable disgust over what you have witnessed, but the true reality is, we need to know without the personal attacks, embellishments and lack of compassion.
Which leads me to the next thing, and this is pretty messed up.
I was videotaped.
Not only did I not give consent, I didn’t even know it occurred until it was later thrown in my face by someone who supposedly, “cared about” me. Someone mind you, who sat back and watched instead of getting me help. This person did not videotape me because they feared for their life or belongings as evidenced [again] by their lack of seeking assistance in any way.
There are a few things wrong with this — least of which is the morals/ethics of someone like that, but according to the California Wiretap Law, a video recording in a private setting — with audio, is illegal without both parties consent. Period.
My situation falls under these laws as I was in someone’s private home – not in a public place, at the time I was videotaped. Obviously my break with reality was a very private and personal situation therefore my privacy was violated according to California law (632 of the Penal Code) and the appropriate county’s District Attorney’s office.
According to the DA, I have a case should I wish to pursue it however, that violation feels minor in comparison to this person’s willful neglect and utter lack of concern for my welfare at a time I was wholly incapable of knowing I needed help, let alone able to seek help on my own.
What is wrong with our society?