“Well, I hear the music
Close my eyes, feel the rhythm
Wrap around, take a hold of my heart”
“Flashdance” – Irene Cara
—–
I haven’t written in my blog for a few days. I didn’t think I had anything much to say. Then I remembered that I met my psychiatrist on Thursday and we decided that I would be discharged from hospital this week. Isn’t that good news and cause for celebration?
My discharge is dependent on how I manage while at home for the weekend. Weekend leave from a psychiatric hospital is more than just a break from the hum-drum of the institution. It is a test. It is officially called “Therapeutic leave”. It is an opportunity to determine how well you deal with the stresses of everyday life when you come home. If you manage well, then maybe you are ready to go home for good. If you find it difficult, an extension in your hospital stay may be necessary.
I’m glad to be able to report that I have been fine, I’m doing well in fact. I feel decidedly “normal”, balanced, euthymic. It is particularly boring.
As I suffer from Bipolar Type 1, my mood swings tend to the hypomanic. This recent admission is an exception as depressive symptoms were a key feature. But mostly, I lean towards excessive energy, grandiose ideas and impulsive spending. The early days of a hypomanic episode can be great fun. It can be exhilarating and euphoric. But the inevitable crash always comes and hypomania is closely followed by depression. Fortunately, my depressions don’t last too long and are relieved by the calm and peace of balanced state, euthymia. Again, this recent admission was unusual, with an extended period of depression. But i feel calm again. Its a blessing.
Sometimes when I am balanced, I miss the energy of hypomania. I miss the excitement and I yearn for it’s return. This is only wishful thinking. It’s easy to forget just how destructive I can become when elated.
So, I have been immersed in the banal this weekend. I brought my youngest son for a haircut yesterday. This was imperative as he attended a teenage disco last night. I collected a suit for my oldest son in town. He is preparing for his graduation from secondary school. It’s hard to remember where all the years have gone. I’ve hardly seen my middle son. He’s a typical teenager and out with his friends all day. He barely talks to me at the best of times. I played guitar quite a bit and I went for a cycle to Howth with my wife. It was invigorating but cold. Last night the two of use had a meal in a local restaurant and we thoroughly enjoyed it.
So that’s it. Nothing special. I have rejoined the world of “normal” people and it feels good. I will be discharged from hospital this week and I must take time to build the defences, to try and prevent a repeat of this episode. It will take time and it won’t be easy but I’ve done it before. And I won’t be alone.
I can feel something new creeping in. Something bright and beautiful. Something I had forgotten about. I can feel healing. I can feel hope.
