What Does Mania Look and Feel Like?

When I started this blog in June 2014, I was in the throes of a manic episode. For me, mania looks like super productivity, oversharing on social media, excessive shopping sprees, pressured speech, and hypersexuality. It's also hard to keep my attention honed in on one thing; I flit from activity to activity and idea to idea.

This past summer I started Manic Monique's Meanderings, writing 52 posts in the month of June alone (to give you some perspective, the mania ended in August, since September I have written 1 to 3 posts per month). I wrote a few Op-Eds on mental health and contacted about a dozen publications. I was published in The Root. I started blogging regularly for the Huffington Post. I was interviewed by two internet radio shows. I planned and organized a family cookout for about 40 or so family members. I took 5 vacations up and down the East Coast. I saw 5 Broadway plays. I wrote a curriculum for a mental health presentation for high schools and colleges. I created a proposal for an all-boys charter school I'd like to found. I met with a public policy professor to discuss said charter school proposal. I charged about $23,000 to my credit cards. I posted excessively to Facebook and Instagram, documenting my activities and thoughts. And I started dating again, having taken a year break during my depression.

Yup. I was quite busy.

In previous posts, I mentioned how much I love the mania. And I really do. As I've said previously, the mania has saved me from depression twice. But as I'm sure you can imagine, the mania is exhausting. Very exhausting. And it's expensive; I can't control my spending when I'm manic. During my first mania I charged $10,000. But during this last mania I doubled that amount.

The mania lasted three months. It's never lasted that long before. So when September came I was glad to see the mania go.

Between September and January I was pretty stable. I had a depressive dip for a few weeks, but nothing major; no where close to what the depression looked like in 2013-14. This month, February, I've been getting busy again. I'm looking for a new job, so I attended two job fairs. I've had three interviews so far. I took the Praxis teacher certification test for middle school English Language Arts. And this weekend I'll be attending a two-day conference in NYC on feminism and K-12 education. Next month, I'll be attending a three-day conference in Kentucky on white privilege. I'll even be presenting on social justice English curricula I created! I'm a tad nervous as it'll be the first time I'm presenting at a national conference. Also next month I'll be attending a one-day conference here in NJ on Ferguson and activism.

When I relayed my newfound busyness to a friend, he asked if I was manic again. Now normally, that question pisses me the fuck off. In the past, when I've exhibited "normal" displays of emotion, my friends and family have asked me if I was okay. It's annoying to have others constantly on watch for mood irregularities. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the concern, I really do. But at the same time, I feel like I can't express any emotions at all.

To this friend, I told him how my current behavior differs from my behavior this summer: I don't have pressured speech, I'm not spending money, I don't feel hypersexual. But I have been oversharing on social media.

This is what he text me:

From an outside perspective, I feel like over the summer you were focused on doing everything and now you're doing what you're focused on. That's probably unclear. You just seem more focused now. 

I actually appreciated his observation. I do feel incredibly focused now. I'm not being pulled in multiple directions the way I was this summer. I'm hyperfocused on a few actions instead. But I will take his observation under advisement and keep watch. As  much as I love the mania, I'm not ready for another episode so soon.