Okay. I've talked to you about the Dark Night of the Soul. Endlessly. Till even I was sick of talking about it, but for people who are bipolar, and that's me, even though I love to pretend I'm not. I like to think I'm "quirky" or "edgy" or "eccentric." Well, for people like me there's a polar opposite to the Dark Night, and that's the Really Really Bright Sunny Incredible Day of the Soul.
And it's a great day. A wowza, this feels so good day! At first.
You may feel like you can do anything. You may find yourself wildly, unrealistically productive. You may devour books--even though you can't pay attention to them--finish novels in record time, crank out poetry, make artwork, take an untold number of pictures of yourself with your new computer "blknsexy", write letters--many of them sounding like a Robin Williams improv. You may be witty and winsome and even wise. And you may believe yourself to be quite brilliant. At first. Might I add you will do all these things while completely neglecting other things you are supposed to be doing. Those things may become completely unimportant to you.
And then you may turn irritable. You completely over-react to everything! Good or bad. You may drive too fast and almost rear end the poor souls in front of you. You may lose everything. You may not be able to find a single pair of matching shoes. You may forget appointments. You lose all sense of the concept of "time". You may lose words--lose confidence as quickly as you passed it out before, lose heart. You think of people who shouldn't be on your radar. You call them. Three times in one day. You follow your three calls with an email you never should have sent after the three calls you never should have made. You cuss too much. You even say the f-word and you don't say the f-word. You think you are not a Christian. You say horrible things to people you love and have to apologize. You have an insatiable sexual appetite that's way beyond your normal insatiable sexual appetite. You think you are not a Christian. You think you are not a Christian, and worse, you think you are not a Christian. This is a classic hypomanic episode on the way down to the depressive episode.
You stay in bed all day thinking you are not a Christian. You don't shower or brush your teeth, or put on clothes. You want to cry, but you are way too tired. You want to rage, but you are way too tired. You want to die, but you are way too tired. You think you are not a Christian, even though you keep telling God you are sorry. Your curl up in a ball and you think Lord have mercy, not even having the wherewithall to say it.
Lord have mercy.
It's just a thought.
That's where I am today.
I hate this. I hate that my mind rises and converges and these wild fires burn inside of me. I hate this.
There are times that I just want to be the really nice lady. The one who doesn't blurt out inappropriate things. The one who doesn't become "too much." Sometimes I just want to be blessedly normal. And I'm not normal, and I hate it.
But you know, Jesus loves me, whacked out brain and all. This is the only brain I have. Whether I medicate it, feed it herbs, exercise, whatever! I still have to follow Jesus. I still have to give him my life. My brain. My sins. I still have to love and be in relationships and love Him. We ask Jesus to come into our hearts. Today I need him to come into my brain. Clean up the place. I need him in my heart, too. There's a lot of bad stuff going on in there along with the crazy brain, and God I'm just tired.
I really am.