Thursday, November 15, 2012

Should I invite the voices in my head to Thanksgiving?

One of my heroines is Marcia Purse.  She's the voice of About.com's Bipolar Disorder Guide.  The site is filled with info about bipolar, the various levels, treatments, and hope.  But her November 13 issue struck a chord with me, in fact several.  Marsha related that the voices she hears, her hallucinations, sing, or rather hum, to her.  She heard everything from the Mexican Hat Dance to Perry Como being hummed solely into her right ear.  Her psychiatrist has urged her to tell the hummers to shut up.  Marcia is rallying and will get things right soon.  Both she and her column are valuable resources.

For me, the singers start mostly during silence, like Marsha's, but also there are voices when the heat comes on.  The voices, like a number of people talking, comes through the heat ducts and tell me stories but its so confusing I can't concentrate on what anyone, assuming there is anyone, is saying.  I've never heard the lines you hear in the movies with hallucinations such as "Kill yourself!" or "Shoot the President!" or "Go on American Idol. Really! You're that talented!".  Just mumbled stories.

Right now I've got the jazz station from Spotify on and the heat is whooshing around the kitchen but I'm fairly certain it's just me here this afternoon.  But then I've got to get up and go stand under a heat duct to get the full effect, and I'm just trying to get this done.  Maybe later.

Hallucinations can occur in folks with bipolar disorder when the depression or mania has psychotic features.  Taking a look at what some contributors added to Marcia's site made me feel good because I'm always seeing black bugs flying around the house (I mostly thought I needed new glasses, but bugs in Northern Hemisphere winter? Nah.) and I regaled readers some months back about my being watched by the glass angel in our bedroom.

This angel....
 
which to me is like this Angel....
 
 
 from Doctor Who.
 
So it sounds like as long as you're keeping the mind as engaged as you can on positive, pro active things, like moving your fingers over a keyboard, the singers/whisperers stay off where they belong.  But no matter what, you should be sharing this with your doctors.
 
I don't think I really need to invite the whisperers in my head to Thanksgiving, as they'll come anyway. Just glad we don't have to feed them. Maybe they have their own version of the day.  "These hallucinatory mashed potatoes are as miserable as you are! What? no green bean bundles? Okay that's it.  Everyone, Bohemian Rhapsody! Ah, one, ah two..."
 
"Is this the whole meal?
Pass the dark meat to me,
How was the car ride?
Why'd you vote for Mitt Romney?"
 
More on Thanksgiving later.  Thanks for reading.  The voices in my head are telling me they need coffee.  They should get their own car.
 
Thanks, Marcia, for keeping us informed.
 

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