I’ve been reading Julie Fast’s Book Take Charge of Bipolar Disorder and it’s brought back memories of my last manic episode and reminded me how precarious the line is between being healthy and being unwell. My intentions in reading it was to help a friend in need, which it has done, but it created almost a sense of nostalgia for the time I was manic. I want to feel that good and confident again. I miss it. I miss loving my job, arriving early and blasting music in my classroom, running around and setting up for the exciting day to come. I remember the thrill of creating and executing lessons that the kids got excited about and learned from. I miss the thrill of living.

Today I felt happiness as I found the chores I had to do to be easier to accomplish than they have been in the previous days. I got more work done today than I have in the entire week before. I was thankful for the ease with which I carried out my tasks, and reflected on why that was. I didn’t think I was getting manic, but being happy is certainly something to question, as sad as that seems. Just look out for feeling too happy, I tell myself.

As the cooler air of the afternoon rolled in my spirits began to decline. I felt a sadness set in that I hoped was only temporary. Fortunately it was. I perked up once my husband came home and we were able to laugh about our day together.

I sought out music as a way to even out my mood. I listened to the song I put on repeat when I was manic. It’s a song by One Republic, “Counting Stars.” I would listen to it on my way to work and while I was setting up for my lessons in the morning. It had the lyrics “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.” and in my mania it really seemed to speak to me. The whole song seemed to make sense to me, and I would sometimes sing to it in the car. It felt like such a universal sentiment, that we all are attracted to things that are bad for us, and it was my way of celebrating that I was not alone in this sentiment. I felt if we experienced it together, we could fight it together as well. Another part of the song says “no more counting dollars, we’ll be counting stars,” which was the part where I found hope. Every line of the song reverberated meaning, clarity and hope to me. Now that the mania is over, I still enjoy the song, but it’s not quite the same. It’s no longer the mantra that it once was.