Monday, April 8, 2013

A Hitchhiker's Guide to My Mind...iverse.

I want to try and make a basic outline of how my mind works, how to attempt to traverse it, and the various common qualities of different moods/phases/areas. It's more in a hope that others might be able to avoid certain issues in the future. First, some basic background. I am bipolar I - I rapidly cycle, usually from day to day - or at most week to week - between moods that are typically either depressed or manic (or mildly depressed or hypomanic), with brief and somewhat uncommon pauses of relative normalcy. There are also some fairly frequent minor 'mixed states,' which blend two extremes into a more volatile combination, usually leaning toward depressed, and some much more occasional major spikes. The major spikes tend to also be mixed states, and - while I could be wrong because I don't have enough data yet - they go in a monthly cycle. I know... it's my 'period.' If I start ripping your face off with words, getting really irritable, switching from seemingly happy and extroverted to reclusive and introverted... well, you just might ask me, "Is it that time of the month?" in which case I might just want to rip your face off... or laugh. Who knows?

::::Geography::::

My mind has mountain peaks and low valleys, volcanoes and soothing hot springs, burning deserts and frozen tundras, flat plains and rolling hills... You name the geographical feature, my mind has it. Now, if you go outside and you look at a hill, you can easily identify it as a hill. You look at the topography of my mind, and it might be a little more difficult because these ain't yo nomull evruh-deh heeeeels, ya siy? Also, by my kooky sounding spelling, one might think I was more toward the 'higher' spectrum, whereas I'm actually in a mixed mood right now that's heavily leaning toward the depressive side. Literally every moment feels unbearable and dazing, yet I frequently cover it up with nonsensical jokes and fake smiles. I'm also actually in a lot of pain right now from my fibromyalgia, and I've had increased anxiety lately. So do you think you can so easily identify the geographical features of my mind, especially now? Well, let's go over some of the more basic qualities of my psychological topography so that you could better identify these features without necessarily stuffing your brain so full you have an aneurysm.

---High Ground---
Mountains:

There are two primary kinds of mountains - volcanoes and just plain giant heaps of rock. Volcanoes are perhaps the most relevant for those around me, yet perhaps the least common, as well. Volcanoes are moods that are big enough to be mountains, but with the added quality of being very volatile, and potentially dangerous. 90% of the time, a volcano will be a mixed state (reminder - a combination of depression and mania that creates an explosive and/or volatile compound.) Mixed states are much less common for me, and they usually aren't quite mountains/volcanoes, either. I'm not sure, yet, as I've only recorded about a month of my mood patterns so far, but from what I've recorded, I have a hypothesis that my volcanic mixed states come along roughly once every month. My mood can flip flop, I can be extremely irritable, I can seem extremely difficult to get a read off, I can seem unpredictable, I can explode in your face and melt it right off with words alone, I can become extremely anxious and worried, I can be irritable and difficult to work with, I can become extremely emotional, and it essentially becomes no holds barred. A bit of my steam was relieved from a recent eruption, so I'm not quite so unstable at the moment, but one eruption doesn't necessarily mean that another won't come. These moods also tend to last longer than my normal moods - as long as a week! Usually, there's some build up as well as a gradual decline after reaching the peak. The best tactic when you see a volcano? Well... stay away from it, you daredevil dumbass! What else do you think you should do? Climb to the top and take a swan dive?

The other kind of mountain is just tall and imposing. While there may be some minor qualities of one mood type when it's dominantly another, the little fragments are usually of sub-clinical and fairly irrelevant levels. For instance, I might go through a depressive episode but have a number of ideas and be unable to sleep. Does this mean I'm in a mixed state? Nope, not at all. A lot of ideas and difficulty sleeping has never made a hypomanic mood on its own. Sure, a mixed mood doesn't always necessarily need to have a full blown hypomanic mood on top of a full blown depression, or a full blown mania on top of a full-blown/moderate depression, but the symptoms of either are usually quite significant and contribute considerably to the volatile nature of a mixed state. Note that there are no real 'depressive mountains,' as depressions are typically lows, like valleys. The only real exception is a mixed state, but it has a giant pit in the centre filled with scolding hot magma that goes below the earth's crust.. so I'd say that the 'low' kind of makes its way into there. Anyway, mania mountains tend to have very sharp peaks and both rise and decline very quickly. They're usually fairly short-lived, seldom lasting more than a couple of days. It's ironic how a person in a flight of mania might feel like they can move mountains when their mania can seem as imposing and 'high' as a mountain.


Hills:

Hills are usually mania-related and can be quite frequent and rolling. This are usually enjoyable for both those around me and myself. Usually a hill is when I seem more positive, more energetic, full of ideas, perhaps more talkative, and overall more kooky - but markedly less of all of those than mania mountains. Hills denote hypomania. This is the happy-fun-times of bipolar. This is when the bipolar person is still relatively in their right mind, but are obviously 'higher' than normal. Admittedly, it can also sometimes just feel a little bit 'happier' and 'energetic' than usual to the bipolar person themselves and those around them. Hypomania seldom, if ever, gets a person hospitalised, and they're even often overlooked by the world at large. In fact, bipolar II individuals who have hypomania, but not full-blown mania, might - or are rather almost guaranteed - to be diagnosed simply as 'depressed' because people typically don't even notice the extent of hypomanic episodes. Hills can sometimes be overlooked, as well, especially when you have much more extreme features like a great canyon or mountains that reach past the clouds. Hills are common and - while sometimes marvelled at or even loved - fairly unremarkable in the grand scheme of the bipolar spectrum. Hills might also be indicative of more minor mixed episodes, though these hills are quite rare. Hills like this might have scolding hot springs and be volcanically active far underneath the surface. Just in case you do run into a mixed state hill, look for unexpected or unusual changes that deviate from the normal hypomanic mood.


---Low Ground---
Canyons and Valleys:

Canyons are usually when my mood takes a sharp drop into depression. I can seem perfectly fine and even normal and then - oops, there's a cliff there! Usually, the lowest of the lows comes almost immediately, and then the depression might go away almost about as suddenly. Valleys, on the other hand, tend to be longer lived and have more gradual descents to and ascents from the depression. The geographical definition of a valley, and most lower points, can have the word 'depression' in them, in fact. Plain depressions usually aren't as complicated or varied as mania and hypomania, so there's little need to go further in depth, but for a quick description... During a depression, I can be less vocal, have little or no energy, little or no motivation, feel as though I am actually physically feeble (or more than usual, at least) which others can feel, too, I can often have worsened or increased incidence of fibromyalgia flare-ups, as well as general achiness, stiffness, and lethargy, I can seem more withdrawn and be more of an isolationist, and... above all, I can occasionally cover it all up with compulsive and fake smiles, and reassurances that nothing's wrong (my energy level is usually telltale, however.) Canyons and valleys are usually the worst of the worst. If I do have a facade, I usually can't maintain it for very long. I often shut down completely, or quite near. These places are also often much darker and colder than the areas higher up.


Ravines and Gullies:

These are basically the same as canyons and valleys, in that order, but simply smaller. When I have a facade or try to cover up the depression, I can typically pull it off much better and for a longer period than with the canyons and valleys. Because valleys last longer, I usually maintain no facade, or it can only survive a smaller portion of the depression, but a facade can often survive the whole depression of a ravine or gully. Gullies might not even really register on other people's radars as, while they might be wider in proportion to ravines, they're also typically shallower. Gullies might seems like simply slower points in life, or even appear relatively 'normal.' They may last longer, or appear flatter, than ravines, but I'm typically decently functioning (well, relative to me, at least) and can have at least a semi-decent outlook without too much effort. There usually isn't nearly the degree of awe-striking power as a deep depression can cause, but they're usually much easier to deal with, as well. These mild depressions are fairly common and often relatively short lived.


---The Ocean---

To stick with the geographical theme, the ocean can represent the great unknown. It constitutes most of the world, and yet it's probably the least explored and the least understood part of the world. Much of my mind is still an utter mystery to me, but with new tools, new things are being learned everyday. The great, deep blue can seem imposing, mysterious, and even scary, and perhaps it should be... to a degree. For if we sink into this great unknown... could we ever come back? I perhaps get too curious for my own good, sometimes.


::::Tectonic Activity::::

Anxiety isn't really like any particular land feature, but acts more like tectonic plates shifting. Anxiety can form mountains and volcanoes, dry up and create new seas, tear land apart and make giant holes, it can swallow houses whole into the ground like they never existed, it can shake the ground and your foundations, it can send tsunamis crashing into cities, and it can instill fear. While anxiety isn't exactly any particular land feature, it can certainly contribute to the formation of land features. My anxieties can plummet me into a depression, or send me into a manic high. Sometimes, it causes volcanoes to explode, and for my foundations (beliefs, for instance) to shatter right from under me. Anxieties can scare me into a seemingly catatonic state, or send me running. What I do certainly know, however, is that something bad always comes when anxiety is looming over me, and it's most volatile when paired with a land formation that's already existing.

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