Autopsychology

Can something be both a boon and a curse? For a long time, I’ve been dimly aware that I’m not like most people in my psychology. For most of my adult life, I’ve noticed that people seem substantially more emotionally stable than I am. People who know me, or even people who only read the things that I write, probably have noticed that I seem to have cycles in my emotional states that they may not normally witness in themselves or others.

I can fluctuate wildly on a day-to-day basis from what I might call personality number one and personality number two of myself. Personality number one speaks slowly, thinks slowly, and is plagued by crippling self-doubt. He sleeps late, is constantly bothered by fatigue, and works only half-heartedly at serious endeavors. He is petulant, sullen, and frequently can be insensitive and rude. Personality number two speaks and thinks at a rapid-fire pace, and believes whole-heartedly in the virtue of his causes, the rationality of his beliefs, and the fundamental ordering of the universe as he sees it. He is charming, witty, and vivacious. He has a way with words that few can match, and can say and do things that exhibit tremendous sensitivity and compassion. Some of you may have felt the touch of his presence in birthday cards, get well soon cards, belated thanks, and well-deserved gratitude just for being who you are. He gets by on only four or so hours of sleep a night without difficulty and can spend 12 straight hours furiously writing or engaging in some other project without break or noticing how the time has slipped away.

I have long admitted to myself that I show the classic signs of being a manic depressive. It is hard to explain, even to myself, since I must try to imagine being someone else in order to describe what it is like in ways that might be able to be understood. There are many people who suffer from depressive bouts or occasional periods of mania, but for it to be a way of life is something that is much harder to comprehend unless you live it as well.

The politically correct phraseology would be to say that I suffer from manic-depression. In my depressive phases, I would likely agree with that assessment. In my manic phases, such as the one in which I now find myself, I find it much more difficult to sincerely say that I ‘suffer’ from manic-depression. I am capable of fantastical lows and euphoric highs and although they are not consistent, the fabulously powerful highs seem to me to be well worth the occasional apathetic downsides.

To put it bluntly, I feel as if when I am in my manic phases that I am capable of far more than most people – the stable ones, at any rate. At the very least, I know that the manic’s phenomenal energy and verve fuels me to be far more than I am during the periods that most approximate my stability. I am more creative, more daring, more eloquent, more caring, and more able to express myself in ways of which I can only dream during my lows and stable periods.

True to the classic symptoms of mania, my mania can be triggered just as can be depressive episodes. While a failure of any sort, even imagined failures, can set off depressive episodes, manic periods can be started by praise and happy emotions. If I’m being honest with myself, I probably have to admit that my constant search for love, and my nearly non-stop powerful attachments to particular women are my psyche’s way of bathing me in the heady pleasures of new romance as a way to keep the demons at bay. All I know is that from the time I first became aware of the opposite sex, I have been head-over-heels in love with a changing array of women (lingering only on those that seem to reciprocate to some small degree). There have been (I’ll estimate) more than a hundred women of whom I would - at one point or another - have been willing to say that I would gladly spend my life with them. Falling in love at the drop of a hat with any woman who smiles at me, compliments me, or who seems to genuinely care about me in some way certainly seems to be something that many people don’t experience.

It may sound as if I’m simply experiencing a continual string of shallow emotional responses of attraction, but I have to stress that not to be the case. In fact, quite to the contrary, I seem nearly incapable of experiencing what I might call the standard range of emotions. When I am sad, I am nearly inconsolable. When I am angry, I am literally shaking and pacing in barely suppressed rage. When in love, I don’t simply have a crush on a woman, but am floating on the highest clouds of euphoria. Indeed, the only time a woman showed significant interest in me over time, I was in love for a solid decade without relent.

I’ll know when I find the woman who I will eventually marry because she will love me back. That’s the ultimate dream for a manic: to have someone who you can count on to continually drive you up to the heights of your mania simply by enjoying your presence.

Whether admitting to myself new feelings for a woman, experiencing a victory like that of this past Sunday morning, or tackling a challenging opponent in a game of wits (so long as he doesn’t severely trounce me) over some position, the effect can drive the depressive me into the background allowing the manic me (the one that I know is better than the real me) to step into the limelight and hold the world in his palm.

What brings this all up is my current desire to engage in a program of personal growth over the summer and beyond. Despite the dearth of constructive advice in this arena from those who know me, I’ve managed to make several strong resolutions that will better me as a person. I’ve committed myself to reading more from my library (how have I managed to accumulate a library of over 1000 volumes and only have read perhaps half of them?) and to restarting my language education (I purchased a set of Arabic language CD’s over a year ago, but got busy and stopped listening to my lessons after only one CD). I’ve resolved to continue my exercise program as it has doubtlessly improved my physical health over the past year.

All of these issues are simply skirting around the main issue, though, which is my emotional instability. I don’t know how else to describe it other than to say that it is simultaneously both a curse which dooms many of my social relationships, and a blessing which makes me into the kind of person who I enjoy being. There are psychologists and medications that would likely be able to control these emotional fluctuations, but losing the lows necessitates losing the highs as well.

The possibility of losing the nearly magical gifts I acquire when under the intoxicating influence of my mania is something that scares me more than I can possibly communicate. If I were asked right this instant whether I would take a lifetime of stability at the cost of the me who doesn’t exist outside of his mania, I don’t think I would have an answer. And for a person who always wants to have the answer, that’s a scary place to be.