This is my brain off Seroquel

OK I admit it.  Or maybe I’ve already admitted it on this blog: I’ve skipped the Seroquel these past few nights. It seemed like a fine idea until now, as I sit here with this buzzing in the back of my brain, with a tired body, with heavy lids that want to close over dry eyes if not for these thoughts darting every which way, keeping me up, keeping me open.

At work today that my behavior was a little strung out. I was obsessively creating outlines and feeling competitive with coworkers. I was feeling overconfident. I was over-sharing about my family and speaking when other people were not really interested in hearing from me. The beginnings of hypomania at its finest.

But instead of staying home tonight like I should, I’m going out to a friend’s birthday party.  I’m going to put on a skirt that’s too short because even though I’m exhausted, I’m also elated. I’m charged up, and short skirts were made for nights like this. (Here’s the clinical definition of how I’m feeling.)

p.s. gotta love the irony that this morning I’m offering bipolar tips and this evening i’m admitting to hypomania.  but i’ll have it under control soon.  i will. i will.


3 thoughts on “This is my brain off Seroquel

  1. Pingback: Welcome to The Dazed Starling! (Or: Why I’m renaming this blog) – Your Bipolar Girl

  2. Just recently diagnosed as bipolar, and I definitely know what you mean about needing more sleep. Before medication, I could get by with four or less hours of sleep. I was groggy, and would often fall aleep while driving, but I could get through the day, and wasn’t nearly as tired as I am now. Now I have to take naps, on my breaks and lunch, just to make it. I’m thinking that this increased need for sleep is just a symptom of ALL the medication. Maybe this is how non-bipolars feel all the time. Most people I told about my previous sleep habits were blown away: they couldn’t fathom how I even got up in morning.


  3. I know that feeling where all you want to do is close your eyes and sleep but that itch in the back of your head makes you think it’s a better idea to end up at a bar and then in some random girls bed. Did I say itch.. it’s more like, a really annoying jackass with a microphone yelling random thoughts from the inner sanctum of my brain. I always imagine wherever the voice (err, thoughts) are coming from for mania is kinda like a bar in Las Vegas and the voice (err, thoughts) for the depression are kinda like from the bar at Applebees. Anyway.


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