Last night my brain decided that it was time to whirl again. After two months of constant stimulation I finally had some time to relax. I was away from people, in a familiar bed, in the quiet of a place that I know. It felt peaceful. Except the peace came with a price. The release stimulated a bit of mania. I use mania too loosely. My brain swims. It runs. It fucking gallops. Is it "mania?" Maybe. Whatever it was I was happy that it had waited until we were back in Istanbul, away from weddings and relatives and such, to surface.
I wasn't exactly amused by it. In fact, I was rather bored and irritated by it. I suppose that I should clarify what exactly "it" was, but it is rather hard to describe. As long as I was stimulated I was fine. I could watch a movie and everything would feel normal, except that I was very sleepy and did not want to watch a movie. Then, as soon as I turned off my computer and tried to go to sleep my brain would not let me. I was gripped with a sense of impending doom. Anxiety? I felt like there was something I had forgotten to do, something important that I had left unfinished. I have had to dot so many i's in the past couple of months that it is a fair feeling to have. But it was beyond a normal irritation gnawing at my brain. It was a fear that bounced around and sank into my heart. I thought that maybe I should stay awake and write. It has been awhile since I have done a night of writing, but really I wanted to sleep. So I watched a couple of episodes of Friends, took a melatonin, curled up against my husband and tried to sleep.
It took awhile for the melatonin to kick in, and in that 15 minutes I lay there thinking that I really should try to describe what was happening to me. I remember thinking that it was funny because I can always recognize it as my "manic stage," now, and I can know when it is coming and how it will feel and yet it always feels new and different and unexpected. I remember thinking that was very important and that I should remember it and explore the concept in the morning. It is morning now and I can't really understand why I thought any of that was important. It was only fits in the night. Nothing real. Nothing solid. Nothing.
I wasn't exactly amused by it. In fact, I was rather bored and irritated by it. I suppose that I should clarify what exactly "it" was, but it is rather hard to describe. As long as I was stimulated I was fine. I could watch a movie and everything would feel normal, except that I was very sleepy and did not want to watch a movie. Then, as soon as I turned off my computer and tried to go to sleep my brain would not let me. I was gripped with a sense of impending doom. Anxiety? I felt like there was something I had forgotten to do, something important that I had left unfinished. I have had to dot so many i's in the past couple of months that it is a fair feeling to have. But it was beyond a normal irritation gnawing at my brain. It was a fear that bounced around and sank into my heart. I thought that maybe I should stay awake and write. It has been awhile since I have done a night of writing, but really I wanted to sleep. So I watched a couple of episodes of Friends, took a melatonin, curled up against my husband and tried to sleep.
It took awhile for the melatonin to kick in, and in that 15 minutes I lay there thinking that I really should try to describe what was happening to me. I remember thinking that it was funny because I can always recognize it as my "manic stage," now, and I can know when it is coming and how it will feel and yet it always feels new and different and unexpected. I remember thinking that was very important and that I should remember it and explore the concept in the morning. It is morning now and I can't really understand why I thought any of that was important. It was only fits in the night. Nothing real. Nothing solid. Nothing.
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