A client cancelled an NDIS shift, and all of a sudden I had a whole day at the computer.
I love days like that. I love to potter. When I'm working at home I pull threads and move really fast, with lots of things going at once. I used to call it finding the caramel. You're eating ice cream, there's a vein of caramel running through it, and you just dig, following the vein.
That day I found a lot of caramel.
I built two websites and an app. I had several chats with the AI going at once, jumping between them, multi-threading the whole day. The AI has given me a great ability to create at a level and at a speed I've never known. For someone with a head like mine, full of ideas, that's an incredible gift.
In the evening I sat down and watched a movie I'd been wanting to see. It was about an AI robot companion. It was scarier than what I'd normally watch, and it stirred me up. It finished about nine.
Normally I'm in bed by ten. But I didn't have to be up early the next day. So I went back to the computer and powered on for another two hours.
Around midnight I noticed something.
I was anxious. Elevated. And the thought that came into my head was, I don't want to try to sleep.
I've lived with bipolar type 1 for more than twenty years, and I know that thought. That's the thin edge of the wedge. I could potentially just keep going all night. And then that's the beginning of the end.
For me, sleep is the edge. There's no shallow water before the drop. One night of skipping sleep because I'm on a roll can turn into two, and two can turn into a week, and a week can put me in hospital. I've been there.
So I stopped. Not because I wanted to. Because I knew.
I did some mindfulness. I think I did a box in Box of feels, the app I built to help me process emotion. I got the day out of my head and onto the screen, and I put it somewhere safe. And I got to bed.
I'm telling you this because I think people misunderstand what managing bipolar looks like. They think it's about never getting excited. Never having a big day. Never chasing an idea.
That's not it. I don't want a life with no caramel. I don't think God wants that for me either. I think his presence can be a bit like that vein of caramel sometimes.
But I've had to learn the difference between finding the caramel and the illness taking over. From the outside they can look almost the same. Working at pace, lots of threads, big ideas, late nights.
There's one test I use now that tells me which one I'm in. It's simple, and it's saved me more than once.
It's in the book.
If you're struggling right now, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. In an emergency call 000.
