I’m Sick

I know things are about to get bad when I stop sleeping. Either that or when I start sleeping 18 hours a day. The migraines are also a good sign that my brain has gone from just a little broken to needing a full on hardware replacement (i.e. a psych ward).

I get caught in loops. It’s what made me good at whatever meaningless job I was currently pretending to enjoy. I get obsessed – which can be good if it’s something other than drugs, sex, or crime.

“You don’t do well in circles” my girlfriend told me the other day “literally or figuratively”. I’d gotten lost in a traffic circle for 20 minutes while trying to find her law firm.

It’s weird how things happen. When I’m depressed I pray for the mania so that I can get out of bed and stop spending $60 on GrubHub every day. When I’m manic I wish for the depression so I can sleep. You really do start to hallucinate after 48 hours of work, sex, shop, drink, work, sex, shop, drink.  Those sleep doctors were right about something for once. My point is that I was rarely happy. Always wanting to be in a different state. Again, literally and figuratively.

My close friends, and my mom, can tell the difference in the way I’m speaking. Can’t get out of bed = slow, gravely, forced. Can’t get in bed = fast, excited, not always coherent.

My surgeon sister was the first to call it out. Only took her 29 years, but brilliant people are rarely aware of their surroundings. “I don’t think Nick should be on antidepressants because it can and will aggravate bipolar disorder”

I called my evil genius doctor in Pittsburgh (the one who gets me $1000s of meds each month for free, I’d give you her name but she’s MINE) and she weened me off of two antidepressants. It wasn’t great considering they’ve basically become my blood type.

I’m much happier now, which is ironic in and of itself. I guess it’s nice to feel again after a ten year hiatus.

Having the answer to a lifelong question doesn’t guarantee change. But it’s a start.