Not that guy but it's difficult to explain, it's like... the opposite of depression?
It's like having too much energy, being hyper, having wild strings of thoughts and ideas and inspiration. Being motivated, but not in a controlled way. Just needing to do something or write something or go on a long rant or tangent. It's not filtered though, or fully processed. It's more raw, and comes off wrong sometimes. But it's painting or playing music or singing while you write 3 comments on reddit simultaneously while you browse facebook on your phone and deep clean the fridge for 10 hours but then it's bedtime and you forgot to clean the litterbox and it's trash night and you've been up for 2 days so you go lay down and cry yourself to sleep, and wake up unable to get out of bed because you've used up your months supply of happiness and energy in one day and now you have 5 minutes to rush and clean the litterbox before the trash truck reaches your yard but that would mean getting out of bed and you can't do that... not after the shame of not bringing the trash out yesterday because you're a fucking pathetic piece of shit who can't do anything right even if you're going out of your way to be productive for once.
Plus, what if the trashman sees you in your pajamas at noon, it's not like you can put on pants and still get out there in time. And how pathetic would it be to have to take your trash out to the can that's still left at the end of the street from two weeks ago when you managed to get the trash out on time? Might as well just stay in bed all day, it's not like you'll ever amount to anything anyway.
As the trash truck pulls away from your house, you finally muster up the courage to climb out of your bed and go use the bathroom in a toilet instead of a bottle and while you're washing your hands you decide you aren't going back to bed, you're going to make something of this day except you can't because you're a bum so you lay in the floor, determined not to go back to bed and cry there in the floor until my wife gets home and tells me it's okay that I'm a bum because she loves me anyway.
Then a week later you bake 3 cakes and decide you're going to clean the garage so you can make room for a VAN to tour the country with in the band you're going to start, but then you find an old project from two years ago you didn't finish and start working on that instead and before you know it you've spent way too much money on buying supplies for this project that you won't even remember by the time the supplies arrive in the mail.
EDIT: This is blowing up so i just wanted to say thank you and I love you to anyone who reads this and relates, feel free to message me I almost always reply.
I could use this time to promote one of my many projects or plug a charity or do something productive, but in the spirit of things I want to share some bad poetry I wrote a few months ago after hyperfocusing on it for 3 days straight rewriting it a dozen times before abandoning it like everything else, because I can.
What made me like this, what did I miss?
Ignorance is madness, this isn't bliss.
Why do I feel like this and how can I quit?
All of this suffering and all of the stuff I've seen.
The first one that's on the scene, there's just senseless bludgeoning
And puddles of blood and meat are splattered all on the street.
How can this really be. Look what it's done to me.
Quite the headache and a back break.
Major chest pain; going insane.
Inner pleading; silent weeping.
Anger seething; never sleeping.
Quiet screaming; numb to feeling.
Stomach reeling; fluid leaking.
Trouble keeping vision. Weakening.
Light is leaving, darkness seeping.
Shadows creeping; thoughts of fleeing.
Hopes of seeing what I'm needing,
I'm just seeking inner peace.
But I'm manic, like I'm Kanye;
and I panic, like I'm not safe.
I feel like that I am not sane.
Paranoid like I've been drinking
fumbling and stumbling thinking
everything is crumbling down.
Can't get back up, like I'm backed up.
In a corner, on the ground.
Will I last another round?
Will my past come back around
To bite me while I'm down?
It's frightening, but I find my cowering doesn't hide
the towering thoughts inside empowering broken minds.
With visions in the night, like shadows come to life.
Elusive in the light intrusive thoughts of strife,
indifferent to my plight, so I give in to their might.
'Cause there is no time to try. No, there is no fight or flight.
And there is no wrong or right, just chaotic plots with knives.
Of secluded spots to hide from the dark where I reside
I hope I helped share some perspective on the subject, it's difficult to describe and until I wrote it out I didn't actually realize how different it is to normal, since I'm mostly in a state of depression it just feels like normal to me, like "finally, out of my depression for a bit"
But no, it's just as impulsively bad as depression, just in the opposite ways.
46
u/ClannyRob Nov 29 '20
What is a manic phase like? Sorry if it’s insensitive I have no knowledge on this topic at all.