Four years ago, I was diagnosed with rapid-cycling cyclothymia. It’s like a milder version of Bipolar Disorder, complete with hypomanic and depressive cycles, but I can cycle several times within a week, or even a day. (read: Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder: Symptoms, Treatment, Effects)
No two days are alike. I realize that it’s difficult to understand. Things change so quickly that it confuses me, let alone an outside observer. There is so much misinformation “out there”, that it’s tough for people to piece together an accurate picture of this condition. So I thought I’d take the reader on a journey of what a day could be like when I’m especially rapid-cycling.
What Does Rapid-Cycling Cyclothymia Feel Like?
I wake up depressed. It’s a numbness. Like something has taken me over and sucked out all of my emotions, except that I don’t know why. I’m used to extremes, but nothingness is downright scary. I’m grateful that I work for myself, from home. Looking presentable would require too much energy. I have zero motivation, so it takes a while to do more than make a list of things I should be doing. I take my morning dose of medication, hoping it doesn’t make me more depressed – a potential side-effect.
By my second cup of coffee, I feel more like a productive member of society. Sadly, that doesn’t last long. By 1 p.m., I’m hypomanic. My brain can’t focus. I have twenty ideas for projects that I have no idea how to start. They’re not fantastical; I simply can’t focus enough to know where to begin. It’s beyond frustrating. At 2 p.m., I welcome my second dose of medication, hoping it slows my brain. Instead, it makes me nauseous, dizzy and disoriented. I can’t see straight. I apparently haven’t eaten enough beforehand. I must lie down for about an hour. Mental note – bigger snack tomorrow.
I’m ready to crawl out of my skin until about 4:30, when I can finally focus. The evening varies. I could level out, have another hypomanic episode, or slip into depression. I’m exhausted from emotional tug-of-war. I’ll probably stay home in case I cycle. Let me dispel a myth –I’m not Jekyll and Hyde, suddenly switching between highs and lows in mid-conversation. I feel it coming on gradually, and generally nobody else notices, thanks to medications and therapy. But I feel terrible, so I withdraw.
Drained by 9:30 p.m., I take my triple dose of meds before bed. They may prevent late-night hypomania, which causes insomnia. I toss and turn, trying to sleep, hoping that tomorrow my brain feels a little less like a ping-pong ball.
This article was written by:
Maya Northen is a mental health awareness enthusiast who was born with rapid-cycling cyclothymia, and finally diagnosed at the age of 29. She blogs about her journey with this condition, runs a mental health support group on Facebook, and has begun organizing fundraising events for mental health research and treatment. She believes fully in raising awareness through telling our stories, and plans to work helping youth and teens who are diagnosed with mental health conditions. You can also connect with Maya through her blog and on Twitter or Facebook.
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