Inside Mental Illness: The inner battle of someone with Mania
From NAMI "Family to Family" materials
Inner feelings of power and self-importance expand to awesome heights; ideas burst forth brightly; everything is deliriously possible; thoughts race with the speed of light; the center flies apart, unhinged; feverish activity churns, goes nowhere; "brilliant revelations" get a startled response from others.
In a lightening shift, exuberance disintegrates into hostility, paranoia; sudden rebellion flares; intense resentment against authority calls up rage, stubbornness and rejection of counsel; all appeals are repelled with fierce and haughty righteousness; others draw back out of range, unable to withstand this relentless manic antagonism.
The mind is spinning, flying away; excitement demolishes all control; reckless abandon and sexual misadventure will be protected by magical invincibility. Nothing will stop me now! Why are you putting me in restraints? I am superhuman, uniquely gifted, divinely inspired. You are nothing. I will destroy you.
Humiliation, shame, disgrace, mortification crush the soul as the mind reassembles the pieces of the outrageous, unthinkable folly of the manic seizure; the self must hide, concealed, never to come out; guilt, embarrassment overwhelms; feelings of failure and resignation to soiled identity are intense; redemption, restitution restoration are impossible. I am doomed.
The fear floods in; when will the tempest return? When will all I hold dear be swept away again? I have no way to control this mind-storm; I am terrified it will overrun my weakened fortress. I must hold on tightly so I will not crack. People shrink from me. I think they fear me; I dread discovery; I avoid contact. This vigilance is exhausting.
I am lost. How can I rekindle my life?
Joyce Burland, PhD (creator and director of NAMI's "Family to Family" program)
When I read this description of what it's like to be in a highly manic state I feel a sense of empathy. Empathy for my mom. Empathy for myself. I am amazed that she did as good a job as she did given what she was up against. I give myself kudos for being able to get through a childhood which had plenty of storms. And neglect.
I am grateful that I have as stable a life as I do, given my primary parent and model has suffered from the illness described above, untreated until I was fifteen years old. I feel grateful. It could have turned out a lot worse for both of us.
Your comments are welcome.
Warmly, Ben
I'm right there with you, Ben. I feel empathy for my mom as well. But I still feel so much anger towards her. I think what makes it harder for me is the fact that she was treated. She was diagnosed. She knew that she needed to stay on medication, but chose not to. It's hard for me to forgive her for that because of the brief periods of lucidity that we had.
ReplyDeleteBut you're right. It could have turned out worse for both of us.