What is it like to experience an agitated mania?

It is very difficult to imagine an inner state we have not experienced for ourselves. Whether this is a state of depression, psychosis, mania or hypomania. We can read the most beautiful love stories, but until our heart misses a beat when hearing the footfalls of a lover, we don’t know what it is like to be in love. In this blog I will try to give an insight into how I experience the mania of bipolar disorder type one.

My manias have always manifested in two ways: either as heaven-sent, supremely pleasurable euphorias (see my previous blog titled "What is it like to experience an agitated mania?". Or as terrifying inner battles where an assault of negative thoughts rips my sanity to pieces. In this blog I shall describe the characteristics of the euphoric manias I have experienced, and in the next blog I shall do the same for the agitated manias. 

Agitated mania: Imagine it is Monday morning. It is cold, pouring with rain, and you’re on your way out of the front door carrying too many things. You’ve had a bad night’s sleep and are buzzing from the three cups of coffee you’ve already knocked back today. You’re late for an important business meeting, have had a fight with your partner and your most demanding client is ringing you on your mobile phone. You look back and see your partner rushing after you in tears, but you haven’t got time to talk. So, you ignore him and rush to get on the bus before he manages to catch up with you. Once you have pushed your way onto the crowded bus, you discover you’ve left your briefcase in your car, which is parked on the other side of town.

“Noooooo,” you scream inwardly, fearing you have just lost your company its biggest contract. Your mind is going crazy. You’re confused and agitated.

The early stages of an agitated mania feel a bit like this, and then it gets worse. My thoughts, speech and actions quicken. I become unpredictable, paranoid and unreasonable. I can’t stop talking and explode in rage over the most minor details. I say cruel things without caring that they are cruel, and I dominate conversations, uninterested in what anyone else has to say. After all, I am right, and they are stupid. My voice becomes strident and my eyes dangerous, burning as if they are on fire. I have an air of violence and unpredictability about me, which makes other people nervous. Typical societal inhibitions vanish as I strip naked in public to make my friends laugh. Then, for no apparent reason, I retreat into myself and obsess about the state of the world. In agitated manias, fear is close at hand, along with dystopic thoughts and fantasies.

The slow pace of everyday life is intolerable to me. I jump from topic to topic and get frustrated with those who are understandably confused. I lose my sense of self-control, ruled by the pinball insanity bouncing around my head. 

When my friends show concern, I get angry with them. I must keep moving, getting up, walking around, sitting down, getting back up again. I must keep pushing on, my relentless mind driving me forward at a rate of knots. It is exhausting for me and everyone around me. 

Sometimes an agitated mania will develop on its own without any of the pleasure of euphoria preceding it. However, often, an agitated mania follows a euphoric one. Now, those people who were drawn to my blissful state are repelled by the chaotic, aggressive, high-speed chatter tumbling from my mouth. Curiously, mania suppresses the mechanisms in my mind which tell me I am too tired, too weak or can’t do something. This means I find myself physically stronger and more robust. I can run faster and lift heavier weights because my mind no longer holds my body back. This connection between the body and the mind is fascinating and the way my body changes in mental illness is stark. Somehow my mental state has a far greater influence on my physical state than I ever imagined.

In the early stages of mania, getting enough sleep can calm one down before it fully develops. However, sleep doesn’t come easily in this state. Once a mania has begun in earnest only medication seems to help me. 

 

An excerpt from Oliver Seligman's book, Befriending Bipolar: a patient's perspective