A mixed episode creates an experience of entrapment inside her mind. She is itching with desire to reach deep inside her skull to purge her tormented brain. Her brain suffocates her. She cannot breathe.
Her body unmistakably trembles with fear, her hands twitch from excess energy. Tears overflow in her eyes. She wants to run away from herself as quickly as possible. How does she escape her agitated herself? She can’t. She will indefinitely be trapped. Waiting for her brain to decide when and how she will come down from this mixed episode of hell.
She wants to sleep. In sleep, she is unaware of the torture occurring in her mind. Unfortunately, the mania during the mixed episode relentlessly and viciously keep her awake. She is like a trapped lion in cage, heart bursting out of her chest. The tossing and turning she endures is enough to make her cry out. Please God, take this from me! I cannot go on. The clock changes from midnight to 3 o’clock, from 3 o’clock to 7 o’clock until she wearily gives up on the notion of sleep. Bipolar wins again, she feels as though she is losing her mind. She is terrified.
The world and her life do not slow down. She is a mother who pretends like all is okay in the world. She does not allow her children to know of her suffering. She loves them too much to have them worry. After three nights of sleeplessness, her body cannot keep up. Finally she crashes. She closes her eyes, and sleeps at last.
She is me. I am her. Or is she simply her bipolar? The confusion ensues.