Just Another Manic Sunday

Here's the thing about my bipolar disorder, I tend to lean more towards the "manic" side of things. If you know me at all, you know I'm hyper and fast talking and easily excitable. That's my normal. And let me tell you, I've been extremely normal these past few days.

Now, I know mania sounds cool and totally not harmful, but sometimes it's too much.

Last night, or should I say early this morning, I decided I needed macaroni and cheese. Like, NEEDED. So I crawled out of my bed at 1 am and made my way into the kitchen, moving quietly so I wouldn't wake up my dog. Honestly we both had only been in bed for about an hour, so it wouldn't have been the worst.

But I started on the cheesy boxed goodness. Then I remembered a song that I had heard on the radio, "Thunder" by Imagine Dragons. So I started listening to it. And dancing. And singing loudly. Which woke my dog. So we both began dancing and singing. Which made me remember ballet from when I was 5. So I tried to teach my dog what little I remembered of my ballet class. Unsurprisingly, he was not a good student. After our dance session ended, I decided I wanted biscuits with my mac and cheese. So I preheated the oven and shoved those suckers in. All the while, repeating this one song over and over and over again.

Then I realized I never compliment myself enough. So I used a spoon to stare into my own eyes and let them fly.

"Katie, I love the way you eat half a bag of pizza rolls at a time. That takes dedication and I admire that in a girl. And sometimes, you sing very well in the shower. Not always. But the other day when you broke out into that "Dear Evan Hansen" song, well you killed it. Oh, and I hope Captain America comes and finds you and marries you one day."

By now I'm all buttered up and I feel on top of the world. So I put on a dress, because it's a fancy dinner, and set my table with my favorite cactus plate and serve what I feel will be the best dinner in the world. And it is.

After, I leave all the dishes right where they are and sit on my couch with a blanket and watch episode after episode of Adventure Time until I fall asleep.

When I finally woke up this morning, I knew I had lost control. It's like I know what I'm doing in the midst of a manic episode, but I feel too fantastic to care. It's just a problem for future me. And future me takes care of it, like she did this morning. Washing pans and hanging up many dresses, cleaning up macaroni and cheese from the floor where I decided I should share with the dog.

Mania isn't cool. I won't deny the fun, but it's part of a bigger problem. It wrecks my sleep schedule, makes me nervous to go out in fear of all of the trouble I could get into, and leaves me feeling hallow after it's over.

It's something I deal with and something the people I love have learned to deal with. But y'all, that macaroni was good. So I'll keep dealing.

Until next time.

Make good choices.