Morning after sleepless night.

Morning,

I hate sleepless nights!  It would not be so bad if I was not married and have kids.   Then I could blast music and dance off some energy.  Maybe bake some cookies, buy the way is one of my favorite things to do.  I guess this is one of the reasons why I decided to start a blog.

How did I decide on the title of my blog you may ask.  Well, as most people know, manic depressive people have highs and lows.  I am luckier than most, that I have more highs than lows.  But what most people do not know is what they are.  Most people think of a "manic episode" as a person going out and spending tons of money one day and then it is over.  It is not a simple as that.  Every manic depressive is different.  We all have similar symptoms, but how we experience them differs greatly.  This is why the disease is very hard to diagnose.  I am going to let you in on my life as a manic depressive and the experiences I have had and will be having.

I guess my symptoms started when I was a teenager.  My mother remembers me as having periods of extreme energy and not needing much sleep.  My friend loved being around me.  I excelled in school, had a job after school, and still had time and energy at night to help out friends and neighbors with projects.  I was always busy.  I loved to play jokes on people.  I remember my high school English literature teacher.  He used to make us keep journals.  We had to place artifacts of places and things we did in it.  One time he left a note saying I did not have enough artifacts in my journal. So, the next time it was due, I went out to my backyard and scooped up some dog poop and put it in a plastic sandwich bag.  I stapled it in the journal and wrote I stepped in dog poop today.  He never left me anymore notes! 

Then I met my first boyfriend. I guess you could call him my first love.  We did everything together.  Took the same classes, hung out with the same friends.  When thing got serious, my parents did what all parents do, came up with excuses for why we should not see each other any more.  My mom said he was eating us out of house and home.  So , being the good daughter, when he asked for more food one day I got creative.  I got a can of Alpo and fried it up with some onions and peppers and gave it to him.  To this day he does not know he ate Alpo.  My parents got their whish and we broke up.  Our breakup triggered my first depressive swing.  My mom just wrote it off as a teenage thing.  In a month I was back to my old self and we forgot all about it.

Next time I will talk about my college years before I was diagnosed.  This was a wild and crazy time.  I think I knew something was wrong with me,  but I was having too much fun to care enough to find out what it was.

Some times crazy lady signing off for the day.  You make it a good one!