Onika L. Dainty

In this post, I aim to share my journey, illustrating the extremes of a manic episode and the profound effects it had on my life. My hope is that by sharing my story, others might find understanding, connection, and perhaps the courage to seek help.

Understanding Manic Episodes

A manic episode can be described as an extreme and uncontrollable elevation of mood, often accompanied by feelings of excitement or euphoria. For me, the initial surge of energy felt like a spark igniting a fire. I was flooded with ideas, racing thoughts, and an inflated sense of self-esteem. I felt invincible, believing I could accomplish anything. However, as thrilling as it was, I was unaware of the shadows lurking just beneath the surface.

The symptoms of mania are multifaceted. They can manifest as:

• Rapid speech: I found myself talking a mile a minute, unable to slow down or catch my breath.

• Disorganized thoughts: My mind raced, bouncing from one idea to another, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything.

• Delusions of grandeur: I believed I had extraordinary abilities and a purpose that I was destined to fulfill.

• Impulsivity: Financial decisions became reckless, and relationships strained under my new-found bravado.

• Paranoia: I felt as though everyone was watching me, judging my every move.

As my episode progressed, these symptoms intensified, leading to hallucinations and even violent outbursts. It’s a stark reminder that, if left untreated, Mania can escalate into Manic-psychosis, where the boundaries of reality blur dangerously.

Men vs. Women: A Distinct Divide

Research shows that the onset of Mania typically occurs earlier for men, often in adolescence or around 4-5 years before women. Men may experience more intense and frequent manic episodes, while women often grapple with depressive episodes more frequently. For men, aggressive behaviors can surface during Mania, whereas women may experience rapid-cycling or seasonal episodes, leading to a different emotional landscape.

For me, this gendered experience of Bipolar disorder added layers to my understanding of my condition. I often felt caught between the heightened emotions of Mania and the stark reality of Depression, wondering how my experience compared to that of my male counterparts. After experiencing 13 episodes in my lifetime I can classify my Mania as rapid-cycling or seasonal episodes followed directly by severe depressive episodes.

The Triggering Events: A Perfect Storm

My manic episode was precipitated by a series of stressors that I couldn’t have anticipated. On my 22nd birthday, my grandmother passed away, a loss that shattered my emotional foundation. Just eight months later, I lost my other grandmother, compounding my grief and leaving me feeling adrift.

In an attempt to cope, I turned to substances like marijuana, seeking relief from the overwhelming sorrow. But rather than finding solace, I only intensified the storm brewing inside me. I struggled to focus on my final year in university, plagued by insomnia and a deteriorating relationship with my then-boyfriend. It was a perfect storm of emotional upheaval and loss that I didn’t see coming.

What the Episode Looked Like

As I spiraled into my first manic episode, I experienced a barrage of symptoms that became increasingly difficult to manage. Rapid speech turned into disorganized thoughts, and my once coherent conversations devolved into chaotic rants filled with delusions of grandeur. I believed I could change the world, that I had a mission that no one else could comprehend.

In the throes of Mania, my emotions felt like a pendulum swinging wildly. I laughed uncontrollably one moment, only to erupt into tears or anger the next. I remember feeling detached from reality, caught in a dissociative state where nothing felt tangible or grounded. My parents, concerned for my well-being, noticed the drastic changes in my behavior and knew they needed to intervene.

How My Parents Got Involved

My mother was just five minutes away from leaving for her 12-hour nursing shift when my boyfriend at the time reached out to her, desperately conveying how out of control I had become. That call prompted a frantic drive of four hours to Ottawa, where I was living at the time. I was hallucinating, lost in a world that felt all too real yet completely fabricated.

During the drive home, I tried several times to jump out of the moving vehicle, a clear indication of my disorientation and desperation. My mother, a nurse, assessed the gravity of the situation and recognized that I was experiencing a serious psychotic episode. She made the decision to take me to Scarborough General Hospital for psychiatric treatment.

The Hospital Experience

Arriving at the hospital was surreal. I was so far removed from reality that I couldn’t comprehend the seriousness of my condition. The staff deemed me a danger to myself and others, and I was restrained to a bed to prevent any further outbursts or attempts to escape. It was a terrifying experience to be chained to a bed, sedated into a haze of confusion due to the intense psychosis and my prolonged lack of sleep—I hadn’t slept for 52 hours.

When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself in an isolation room, disoriented and frightened. It was here that a psychiatrist diagnosed me with Bipolar I disorder, attributing my episode to substance use. He explained that I was essentially allergic to marijuana, and its use had triggered this manic episode.

Post-Episode: The Depths of Depression

After my manic episode, the reality of Bipolar disorder set in. I faced an extreme and prolonged Depression that left me feeling hollow and isolated. Sleep became my only refuge, and I would often stay in bed for hours, neglecting personal hygiene and losing interest in everything I once loved. I experienced a significant loss of appetite, leading to dramatic weight changes as I transitioned from manic energy to profound lethargy.

Social activities became daunting, and I withdrew from friends and family, fearing their judgment. Suicidal ideations crept in, an ever-present reminder of the darkness that enveloped me. This cycle of Mania followed by crushing Depression left me grappling with the reality of my condition.

The Stigma of Support

Navigating the stigma surrounding mental health proved to be one of the most challenging aspects of my experience. While I knew I was sick and needed help, the thought of entering the mental health system filled me with dread. I didn’t want to be labeled as someone with a mental disability, fearing the societal repercussions.

In the job market, having a mental health condition can feel like a scarlet letter, making it harder to find employment. Insurance applications often discriminate against those with invisible disabilities. When I was well, I felt invisible; but when I became unwell, it was as if my struggles were on display for all to see.

Many people choose to suffer in silence rather than risk the vulnerability that comes with seeking help. The fear of being treated as a second-class citizen in society can be paralyzing, and it often leads individuals to avoid the support they desperately need.

Managing Symptoms and Stressors

I learned that managing my symptoms equated to managing my stress. Self-awareness became crucial; I had to recognize what stressed me out and have the courage to walk away from toxic relationships or situations, whether they involved family, friendships, or even jobs.

I took small steps toward understanding my triggers and incorporating healthy coping mechanisms. Mindfulness practices, journaling, and regular exercise helped ground me. Surrounding myself with understanding friends who offered support without judgment was essential in my journey toward stability.

The Journey Toward Acceptance

Over time, I learned to accept my condition as part of my identity, rather than allowing it to define me. Seeking therapy and engaging in medication management became vital components of my routine. I learned to communicate openly with my loved ones about my struggles and sought to educate them about my condition.

Embracing my journey and sharing my experiences became therapeutic. I realized that breaking the stigma surrounding mental health starts with conversation. I found strength in vulnerability, and it empowered me to advocate for myself and others navigating similar paths.

Final Thoughts

Reflecting on my first manic episode, I realize it was a wake-up call—a moment that reshaped my understanding of myself and my mental health. The experience was both harrowing and enlightening, revealing the importance of community, understanding, and acceptance.

If you find yourself grappling with similar experiences, remember that you are not alone. It takes courage to seek help, to share your story, and to confront the stigma surrounding mental health. Together, we can foster a community of support and understanding, ensuring that no one has to navigate these turbulent waters alone.