Disclaimer: During manic episodes especially when I became psychotic, my memory lapses. I’ve been told this is a protective mechanism of the brain to blot out embarrassing moments. Thus, I can’t recall everything about my manic episodes.
Alright, most of the time when I became psychotic and delusional, I was in the hospital under the care of heavy drugs. A psychotic mania for me starts with euphoria, then a bit of goal-oriented hypomania, then I’m riding high on the wave to unreality. Cars are talking to me while I’m driving. People are whispering about me on the subway. I’m seeing colors and auras. I’m hearing voices criticizing me in a running dialogue to telling me all sorts of untrue things about politics and the world. Sometimes when I got knocked beyond the edge, I escaped hospitalization because I had no insurance. Well-meaning friends stayed with me in my apartment, trying to coax me to call a psychiatrist. These friends later distanced themselves because of thier witnessing my rage at being questioned like something was wrong. I would move furniture out of my main studio into the closet and camp out there. I’d invite virtual strangers—creepy men to my apartment for rondevous. I’d be talking so fast no one could understand me, my thoughts racing in several directions at once. I couldn’t write anything meaningful which meant I couldn’t freelance which was my bread and butter.