Bipolar Diary: When Fire Flies

I light a candle each morning when I start writing. I have the candle in front of my Baby Buddha who wears a mala I had made for me by my dear friend Sherry.

Buddha

I got up at 3am this morning after going to bed at midnight and was wide awake, wanting to write.

Do I Have to See Things?!

About an hour into writing the previous post, out of the corner of my eye I saw a flare of fire mid-air. It looked as if someone lit a match and was holding it up, but the hand and matchstick were erased.

Fire

I assumed it was not really a flame flying around, but turned to look at it and it vanished, not quickly, but it didn’t dawdle, either, starting at the bottom and finishing at the top lick of the fire. Along with that came a strong sense of smoke which took me on a field trip around the house a couple of times to make sure nothing was on fire.

Nothing was on fire. There was no flying flame. But, they thought they existed and revisited several (random) times throughout the day.

Oh, What a Mind Can Conjure

Hypomania

Happily, no dead carcass smell for a couple of days. That makes me happy.

The parfum du jour has been mint toothpaste. It is so strong it’s as if I had the tube held right under my nose.

There is no toothpaste around here.

It’s a tad disconcerting to have the floor boards slithering. Especially since they are laminate and all one piece across the whole floor. I sneer at it because I don’t want to fall and will be very angry if I do. It behaves, for the most part, when I am sitting and holding it down with my feet. But if a foot leaves the floor, the game is on.

How Much to Reveal

Bipolar Diary

I see the psych early this week and am still having loads of fun being awake and productive as hell.

I know that hypomania (for me) is a one-way ticket up (to mania) or down (to despairing depression). My hypomania doesn’t usually last long. I can often get a sense of which way I am going, but am either ignoring it or unable to decipher the clues.

Not Sooooo Bad

Bipolar Diary

My previous manias have not caused me to lose touch with reality. When it gets really bad, the hallucinations make it hard to remember they aren’t real, but I can remind myself they are a figment of my tilted brain.

(I’m laughing to myself as I italicize words for emphasis but you can hear me saying them out loud, right? I get quite emphatic in this state. I want to be understood. Clearly, understood. And I assume italics makes that happen?)

Just Sayin’

I don’t want meds to fix/change this.

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