Spotlight on Symptoms: Experiments.

Early in my treatment and again recently, I've had phases of bizarre actions, usually at night. One year, we were staying with Josh's family in a mountain cabin. I remember little about that trip. But Josh told me that I tried to start laundry, tried to go in his parents' room, and fell down the stairs, all in the middle of the night.

Once, at home, I put a foaming hand soap dispenser in the dishwasher. I have only a vague, detached memory of this. That's how it usually is. Later, I couldn't figure out why bubbles were pouring out of the dishwasher.

I often wore clothes inside-out or backward, This still happens sometimes. Josh usually notices before I leave the house. I'd send bizarre text messages; Bruce got used to it.

We found my winter coat spread out on the bed. I found Josh's deodorant and gum (I don't chew gum) on my nightstand. Josh found me trying to pour soda into muffin papers. He also find me trying to drink Italian dressing. And just a few days ago, Josh woke early and found his toothbrush in the kitchen and the hot water going full-blast (for who knows how long) in the bathroom sink.

Experiments bother me a great deal once I know about them. I feel beyond my own control as with trance writing. But we try to shrug it off as silly. I think it may be part of the bipolar disorder and not a side effect of medication.

Spotlight on Symptoms: Love Sickness.

I remember my darling friend Melissa giving me a red and white, pill-shaped soap that said Lovesick.

I might feel lovesick over an experience, an object, a memory, a person. A song may grab me by the neck, and I'm lost in those words and sounds for hours or days. The words line my throat. I want to watch the same movie on repeat, search the faces and memorize the dialog.

Sometimes, I have to stop myself from squeezing and kissing Oliver as much as I may suddenly want to. He's little, but his boundaries still matter. I ask for hugs, ask if he wants me to pick him up if he's scared or hurt.

I check out my husband and seek his touch. I wrote all about it.

None of this is bad, but I can feel the cross over when I suddenly can barely breathe, and what ever I love expands in my mind.

It's different from obsession because obsession is for something I seek out. Love sickness happens to me. Electricity down my arms. Pliers at my heart. A gaping, exhausting need for connection.

Love sickness usually comes or at least begins when I'm manic. It's a symptom. But I've experienced it in the dark too. Maybe it's worse then.

Love sickness burns. I try to reshape it, make it something that warms me.