The crazy things me and my mania get up to when she comes to stay.

We take last minute vacations despite not being able to afford it. Last year we went to Paris and visited The Louvre and Pere Lachaise Cemetery, amongst other places. (Me and my Bipolar are spiritually connected to the spirit of Jim Morrison so this was the main reason for our Paris trip)
If anyone is considering Paris as a holiday destination we would highly recommend it but also strongly advise you inform your partner/friends/family BEFORE you go. They tend to overreact if you don't...don't look at us like that, WE FORGOT.

We do NOT need sleep. Sleep is for the weak and we are strong.

We enrol in college courses and put our names down for volunteer work (hey we know we are far too intelligent for that but it kind of feels good to help other people and bless them with our undeniably magnetic, charm, wit and charisma).

We apply for high flying, extremely well paid jobs. Ok, so it says you need previous experience...well we have bucket loads of experience, just not in that specific area. We are the best person for the job and when we don't hear anything back, THEIR LOSS.

We go shopping...for clothes! :-D
Okay so we don't have the space or the funds, that much is true...but when you look as good as us it would be a tragedy not to be adorned in the latest fashions. And if you must know, Yes we REALLY DO need that many clothes and shoes and bags. We also give a lot of them away to friends when they visit thus resulting in more hanging space. Now we have to buy more to fill the gap, gaps are not good. God, we're ingenious.

We go shopping...for anything! Don't knock it, you just never know when that spare George Foreman grill will come in handy.

We get spray tans and beauty treatments and go out on the town prowling for men to have sex with. We don't take No for an answer.

We decorate! Yes...decorate. Our creativity centres around poetry, writing and Art. So far we have re-decorated every room in the house three times, painting murals in most of them.
Me and my Bipolar have only resided at this address for 12 months.

We get drunk a lot. We don't drink alone though, we are always together so it's not exactly a problem is it?

We ooze confidence, we walk into a room and ALL eyes are on us...rightly so too! We look great, my Bipolar looks fab and she tells me I look amazing so can you blame people for staring?

We are very charitable indeed.
Random stranger in a bar that can't get to the cashpoint? Have no fear, me and my Bipolar are here! What was it you needed, £20, £50? Not a problem. You don't even have to pay us back! As long as you're out enjoying yourself then that's all that matters. Is it any wonder people love us.


We support our local pet shop.
'What's so good about that that?' you might think.
Well...this >
3 dogs
A cat
A parrot
Numerous Fish
A Chameleon
2 Guinea pigs
2 Siberian Dwarf Hamsters
And a Tarantula.

Don't worry, it's not like we can't handle them, we're a team and we can take on anything.

We are always improving ourselves! Only last week we booked an appointment for a breast enlargement. I know, I know..but they had an offer on and I'm saving £500.

Me and my Bipolar...we don't do multi-tasking, we ARE multi-tasking. We are more beautiful, intelligent, funny and popular than anyone could ever hope to be. We are best friends, allies, we have each others back. We're taking over the world and we're doing it right now, we HAVE to do it RIGHT NOW!

Then she's gone, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. She never helps me pick up the pieces or get back on my feet. She doesn't hang around to back me up when I'm scrambling around in my own brain trying to find the excuses I need so I can at least TRY to explain myself to the people who have been affected by her latest visit. I'm starting to think I'm being used to be honest.

The things I get up to when my mania bogs off.

I hate holidays, I hate leaving the house. Beautiful people take holidays and lounge around on the beach all day in string bikinis and sun kissed tans. I'd go if I could wear my Parka over my swimsuit.

I'm so tired. When I try to sit up the room spins. I sleep for 18 hours straight. I move from my bed to the bathroom to the kitchen to the couch, and that's where I stay, unwashed, undressed, unfed, unconscious...a mess.

I use my time on the couch wisely. I think back over all the courses I have gotten halfway through and then quit, of all the chances I have thrown away.

I think of the fact that I'm not even capable of volunteer work, let alone a well paid job,because I am so unreliable. I'm a disgrace to life.

I would get dressed but I have nothing to wear, everything makes me look fat and ugly. No, wait. I make the clothes look ugly...and I'm fat.
Who am I kidding...I'm repulsive. I decide that I shall only wear black when out in public, it's slimming and I am the size of an elephant. I knock myself sick. I wish I was slim enough to fit into the latest fashions that everyone else is wearing. I'll just stay in my pyjamas and never go out again. That's that sorted.

I stare at the pile of debt letters on the shelf, willing them to pay themselves, or at the very least, magic a phonecall to the company and arrange some sort of low cost payment plan. After 3 days they haven't done either of the above so I am forced to retire them to the bottom drawer, this is the point of no return, I know it and the letters know it. Maybe next time they will try a little harder...don't they know I am incapable of such challenging tasks like picking up the phone and facing up to life? If I was dead this wouldn't be an issue, cue suicidal thoughts.
I then spend a full day crying and cursing myself for being so weak and pathetic. I decide not to look in the bottom drawer ever again.

I fluctuate between my hatred of inanimate objects and my hatred of other people.

I could not be less interested in sex. Who in their right mind would want sex with me? I can only just bear being near other people in a social situation. I'm vile.

I can't even muster up the energy to bathe. My house is a mess and my vacuum cleaner won't switch itself on and do the carpets. What's all that about? I wish I was dead.

I decide if I never touch another drop of alcohol again it will be too soon. I'm never drinking again and I mean it.

I walk into a bar and everyone stares. I start to get a hot flush, I stumble as I walk and they stare even harder. My heart is racing now, I look a mess and that's why they are looking. But what if I have something on my face, what if my hair is stuck up on my head and I don't know, maybe that's why they're looking at me, sniggering behind hands. I fight the urge to check my hair and clothes for anything alien that shouldn't be there and almost run to the shadiest corner I can find. I slump into a chair and use my phone to check my reflection. My hair is fine and there's nothing on my face. They were staring at me because I'm ugly and fat and a joke. I drink coke and make one glass last me the entire time I'm there otherwise I will need the toilet and I simply cannot walk to the bathroom with everyone looking at me, just the thought makes my breathing speed up.

I haven't got a penny to my name and no cigarettes. I have no one to ask and nothing in the bank. I search down the back of the couch and find two pens and a malteser. I tip my purse up and search through coat pockets but to no avail. I slump to my knees in the hall and cry through desperation and nicotine withdrawal before remembering I have a scratch card in my bag worth £5, oh the joys! I look outside and the sun is shining proudly in the sky. Now I have to wait for it to go dark before I can consider walking to the shops. I might see someone I know or worse, someone I happened across when me and my mania were painting the town red. I decide I need to leave this town, too many people who have eyes and memories. I crawl back to the couch and sleep takes me again. I'm so tired.

My dogs need walking, I pay someone to do it. I muster up the energy to feed the pets but it tires me out so I have to sleep again. Pet food costs me a fortune and I curse myself for having so many animals. I never know when to stop, I hate myself. I cry myself to sleep yet again.

Oh god...the boob job. What have I done that for? I've paid a £1000 deposit, no backing out now. WHY? WHYYYY?

If I'm lucky I might get a couple of 'normal' days, as time goes on it is getting harder for me to distinguish what that is or if I have ever experienced it.
Anyway, I should get some sleep, my mania could call at any time and I need all the energy I can get.