The CBT continues, fortnightly now rather than weekly. I know the theory well and can anticipate the answers my therapist requires. This whole theory works on anxiety generally, I can see that. What it isn’t working on is everything related to bipolar.
I can only, consciously, attempt to affect those moods that are triggered by actions. Those moments I am aware of. In the moment of.
But bipolar doesn’t work like that; there are no warnings of hypomania, no consciousness when in the state itself. Then, I’m unaware of what I think, say, do. How I act, often. I only know of those times in hindsight, when I get to reflect and to mop up. Metaphorically speaking.
My therapist wants me to ‘notice’ when I become hypomanic. I can’t. Often I’ll know I’m high rather than low. But this is when transitioning from my default position (I’m loathed to call it ‘normal’) towards hypomania or depression. I could attempt to change the moods within that transitioning, but once I’ve crossed the line, I’m out of it. Not me anymore.
And not me anymore is where it gets interesting. And dangerous. And scary. Where that other – those other – personalities come out to play. And they’re not nice. It takes every ounce of effort (subconsciously – I have an effective Super Ego that does its job properly) to remain myself, to stay in the light.
He wants me to access that dark character – those dark characters – who’s part of me. He says let him (?) out, see what happens. That’s not going to happen; I’m never going to let it happen. I might lose Consciousness. Control. It takes great effort to hang on. To hang in there. A couple of weeks ago, walking near the curb with a lorry approaching at speed, I all but stepped out into the road. Because I was hypomanic and it seemed the right thing to do at the time. Because that’s what one does in a good mood, isn’t it? Hell, yeah!
And that’s without accessing the dark side(s) of me.