The other day, I had the worst hypomanic-anxiety attacks that I myself triggered. It made me realize how extraordinary the brain really is.

As a neurodivergent who is well-aware of how to push my brain to its limits, when desperate times call for desperate “powers”, I sometimes forget that I can easily drown in my Command Center’s ability to self-destruct.

At around 6 a.m. that day, I forced my brain to super-duper-hyperfocus. I knew what the repercussions will be, but I brutally needed to multi-task and cram a week’s worth of work in just a few hours.

At 10 a.m., I felt THE switch go on. It was a familiar feeling that I get every time I enter into a hypomanic stage. I felt invincible! Creative juices were flowing and I was ticking off boxes that I’ve been needing to do for the past weeks.

But by 12 noon, I felt an immediate physical crash. I did not expect it to be this fast. It must be a sign of aging. My body was exhausted but my mind won’t slow down. It was firing neurons all over the place while my other internal organs could not keep up.

Normally, when this happens, I know I just have to crawl back to bed, drink my medicine and fall asleep.

But today, I had a 1 p.m. super-duper-important presentation that I could not miss, for the life of me, because my team’s future depended on this.

So I pleaded to my brain, pulled my body intact and prayed to be sane until I finish this session.

The entire time, my head was swirling but my brain was in fight-mode. My stomach was churning, I wanted to puke. But instead of barf, my mouth was spewing words, surprisingly, this time, words that made sense.

It was like a paradox of cruel and kind playing inside my body and mind.

Fast forward to 4 p.m. I reached home. The presentation went well, all my deadlines for the day were met, and all the people I owed an appearance to, saw a glimpse of me.

I managed to stay on planet earth like a functioning human being. Everybody who saw me that day did not see the battlefield happening inside of me.

By 6 p.m., my body expired and my brain exploded. Super-duper-hyper-breakdown.

I was hot and suffocating but cold and shivering at the same time. I uncontrollably replayed memories of the day over-and-over and cringed at every word that came out of my mouth. I wanted to go back and undo a lot of things I said. I was strongly overthinking, but in reality, I was limp as a wet noodle.

I felt pain all over, but nowhere.

Because I already know what to do at this point, it was easy to activate my “self-preserve” button. I climbed up my bed. I prayed. I summoned my inner-most-trusted circles. I requested back up. And I reached for my meds.

I made a mental note, not to super-duper-push my brain into its limits again.

𝑆𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.

I entered the blackhole, willingly and peacefully.

It took me 2 nights and 1 whole day to regain my sanity.

Today I woke up to blue skies, and a chirping bird.

Why do I share this?

I know there will be judgement, bashing, memalang-comments, and my enemies taunting, “𝘫𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘺𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘩…”

Pin me to a wall and gag my mouth. But I will find a way to write the truth that many do not want to understand.

No, I am not talking to those who say, “𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘬𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘯𝘢-𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘰. 𝘐𝘬𝘢𝘸 𝘱𝘢, 𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘮𝘰 𝘺𝘢𝘯!” I say to you, just be thankful you did not have it with the intensity we do.

No, this is not for the self-righteous brainiacs.

I write to those who are asking themselves, “𝘣𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘬𝘰 𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘣𝘢?”

Remember the times you’ve heard this being said about someone? “𝘚𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘸 𝘴𝘺𝘢, 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯.” or “𝘒𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘸 𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘪 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘰!”

Yes, you will never understand, until you’re the 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐰.

Amidst the noise of school stabbings and juvenile shootings, I know there are quiet brilliant people out there, who have gone through the same experience and are still going through the same cycles I go through.

Some of us have learned to manage our “super-duper-powers”.

But many are still clueless, confused, hurting, in pain, drowning in guilt, lonely, scared, and one-day-ecstatic-the-next-day-sad, not knowing how to break the cycle.

Yet, most are in outright denial – unwilling to reconcile the complexities of faith and psychology, too proud to admit that strength is found in embracing weakness.

Well, I’ve seen the joys and perks of accepting my poor brain health and of being able to come out of a bad mental state without guilt and disgrace.

I’m here, I’m still alive. I’m not perfect, still a work-in-progress. But my real family and friends love me as I am.

I’ve learned to embrace the ups and downs of living with a mental health condition.

And my real power? It’s having a God that says, “𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘣… 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘴… 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥… 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶…”

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫-𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫-𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨.