I’m in the last day of a four-day break. I needed it.
I had three interviews for a job out of state. The first two interviews were electronic, the last was on site in Missouri where the agency shelled out $1500 to fly me in. All the interviews happened within a 10-day period. It was a whirlwind.
I thought I was a shoe in to get this job. I did not get the job. The why is not important here. What happened afterwards is.
I had one of the worst mixed bipolar episodes I’ve had in years. I went down a spiral I never want to go down again.
It was what psychiatry calls a ‘breakthrough’ episode – one that despite maintaining a medication regimen, the bad thing happens anyway.
When I got back from Missouri and got the bad news the very next day, it was being stunned after being hit over the head with a shovel.
The episode lasted a little over 48 hours. I was fully engaged in hurt, confusion and not a little anger. I was wrapped up in these emotions like a straightjacket.
And when it lifted, it was like a light turning off – it was that fast. I was having lunch with my wife at a local diner and I realized – I’m OK. I can think rationally again. Yeah, I’m still upset over how the interviews went down, but the rage-y confusion and emotional overreacting had lifted like the sudden disappearance of a thunderstorm.
I’m more concerned about this episode than losing out on the job – I’m cool with that now.
I’m seeing my psychiatrist this afternoon. Whether a med switch can help is the question and I think I know the answer – no.
You would think after all these years and all my study of bipolar, that I would recognize what was happening to me and find a way to take myself out of human interaction. I didn’t. I filled Facebook with invective and woe and what can charitably be described as suicidal ideation.
A comment from a good friend telling me to pull myself together resulted in an overreaction leading to a mass unfriending. I can’t get those people back and I don’t blame them for being upset with me.
As with most bipolar episodes, I wrote an apology to all my friends on Facebook trying, again, somewhat in vain, to try to explain what I can’t understand – the loss of control followed by the self-hate and the usual refrain – ‘My God, what have I done.’
I’m sick of saying ‘My God what have I done.’ Damn fucking sick of it.
Life is full of disappointments – some of them severe. Tragedy and loss is our lot often in life – it’s the way things are. I absolutely cannot allow this to happen every time I face some kind of disappointment or adversity. Right now, I’m groping for answers. But at least, I’m OK now.
But like a California earthquake, the farther you are from one episode, the closer you are to another.