“Well when the game is over, I won’t walk out the loser
And I know that I’ll walk out of here again
And I know someday I’ll walk out of here again
But now I’m trapped”
–Bruce Springsteen, “Trapped”
Yesterday wasn’t one of my best days. I’ve previously written that one of the symptoms of bipolar is mood intensification. Another is irritability. The combination of the two is unbearable. I woke up in a truly foul mood for no reason and it proceeded to get worse as the day progressed.
Imagine the anger that sets in when you’re in a supermarket or on some other shopping excursion. The checkout line is too long. The person behind you keeps pushing and bumping into you with their shopping cart. The person in front of you has two full shopping carts and a screaming child pulling candy off the shelf. At the front of the line is a person old enough to have sailed on the ark with Noah and is taking forever to get the groceries on the conveyor. Then they have an envelope full of coupons. Then they have the nerve to pay by check. You know this feeling. A temporary hatred for humanity, all of whom seems to have gathered with a 20 foot radius of you as you are simply trying to buy some milk and thinking this would be a quick trip. These feelings of consuming anger build until you exit the store, take a deep breath, retreat to your car, and head home.
On this particular day, this how I feel when I wake up. Except there is no deep sigh of relief or quiet place where I can calm myself. There is no relaxation. There is no reason for this irritability and anger. It merely is; and I have to deal with it. I try to sit and use deep breathing but it doesn’t work. I keep bouncing my heel off the floor, shaking my whole leg. I can’t sit still, which makes relaxation impossible. This is psychomotor agitation at its finest. I want to claw my way out of my own skin. I want to scream and throw a tantrum like a child, do anything I can to exorcise this rage until I can collapse, thoroughly exhausted, and finally rest. I can’t. I have to manage myself responsibly. I have to watch my six-year old and not lose my temper with him.
My son isn’t making it easy. As we sit on the couch watching TV, he insists on lying right up against my arm. Normally I don’t mind and I take comfort in it. Not today. Every time he moves and accidentally kicks or elbows me, I become angrier. I am able to maintain composure and ask him to move over. He does – for about five minutes – then he is back to leaning on me yet again.
I take a hydroxyzine, a non-narcotic I was prescribed for both anxiety attacks and mania, to calm down. This is the equivalent of throwing a brick in the Grand Canyon. Utterly useless, but I can’t take a second one for fear of falling asleep or being too groggy to watch my son. Everything culminates when my son accidentally breaks my glasses. I let out a “GODDAMMIT!” He bursts into tears. It takes almost ten minutes to calm him down. He apologizes repeatedly and promises never to play with my glasses again. I feel awful for yelling like I did and try to rationalize it by saying I wasn’t yelling directly at him, merely yelling in frustration, but it doesn’t ease my guilt. We forgive each other eventually and move on.
The worst part is that as this anger festers and grows, I recognize clearly what is happening, but I am unable to do anything about it. It is beyond my control and I am powerless to stop it. Anything I do to calm down doesn’t work and psychomotor agitation makes it worse. My wife asks several times what I’m upset about, but I can only tell her, “Nothing.” There is no specific event that has set this off. I feel completely helpless and trapped inside my own brain. I understand what’s happening and I can think rationally about it, but I’m locked away inside myself while the monster tries to get out and play. I feel as if some bizarre version of Jekyll and Hyde is being played out and I desperately want Jekyll to win. I want this day to be over.
Later that night (technically, early the next morning) I eventually get to sleep. I’ve never been so grateful for feeling tired. Yesterday is finally gone and today, so far, has been very different. Yesterday’s crisis is over and I feel relatively average again. The next test is seeing what I can accomplish while the better mood lasts.