My second best friend (Yes, I've OD'd on Mr Freezes again) is a manic depressive as well. Unlike me she's gets more down than up. When together, our behaviour changes based on this and no get together has ever been the same.
When we're both up, it's pubs rather than coffee shops, we're more likely to play knock door bunk on the latter, which wouldn't work anyway as the doors are already open. I digress. Drinking in swanky bars up west, or if one of us is ovulating then Wetherspoons, and surrounding tables miraculously get further and further away.
The more ideas, goals and business plans we come up with, the louder we get, the higher our voices, which speed up, interrupting each other to the point we're not even listening to each other or even talking about the same thing anymore. We shake with excitement and fake fizz is flying everywhere. We once came up with a vision for a cabaret act and booked a six week run at a small London theatre. Two days before the 'grand opening' we realised we hadn't written it (we had an hour per show), rehearsed it, found costumes or music or anything. We panicked and cancelled.
When just one of us is up, hmm.. by that I mean past the 'fun stuff' - the highs (feels like free ecstasy and lasts even longer, but unfortunately so does the comedown) - past the mania - insomnia has increased, delusions kick in, start checking the house for hidden camera crews, opening bank statements feels like being sent down and people are 'criticising' erratic behaviours and women are locking their husbands up - into psychosis. I can't even describe this because I'm not present at the time. We have had to make the difficult decision riddled with guilt to admit the other into Butlins (my name for the ward. When they built a new ward at the Homerton East Wing they refused my suggestion of naming it 'Butlins Ward'). Then.. when the section is over but still on the ward, and we're allowed to breath fresh air again, the other picks us up and lakes us to the pub for jagerbombs. Last time this happened I completely forgot I was a Butlins patient and forgot to go back. Police were out looking for me and called my next of kin about 20 times until he picked up. My next of kin was an old boyfriend and it had ended badly because I hadn't changed my hospital details.
There is a plus side to this, when we finally did get a show together, we did an Edinburgh Fringe run, and shared a room in a flat. We created a cleaning rota based on our moods. Unfortunately, when Sheena was up she became very excited, unfocused and untidy, and when she was down she couldn't be bothered to clear up. Just me then. I gave myself stickers on the rota in the hope she would see it as a reward system. She roached it.
When we're both down we usually stay in our respected houses, which are the polar opposite (see what I did there) of London. Facing people on the tube is not an option, and the escalators are too long, and any eye contact along the way is like having a compass shoved in your eye. Life is safer under a duvet, but unfortunately changing a duvet requires the energy of Torville and Dean training for a, er, really long skating thing.
We do call each other during this time but the other one doesn't pick up.
When we're both stable, Jesus we may even go for a coffee or to the cinema!!
So what do we do? I've no idea! I guess the best option all round is creating seventeen business which we run from our stomaches, whilst doing the Aggadoo non-stop for four and a half hours in Wetherspoons. And if one of us are ovulating.. what a lucky man!!
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