Semester In Review

By Jaime Lamé

know that feeling when you’re coming down from an energy drink and falling asleep, and feebly trying to counteract it with another stronger energy drink? dehydrated whiplash. think having an 8-ounce Red Bull and following up with a Celsius or two to stay awake. 

it has been a constant upper with no downer. ever. 

on the last day of add drop, i fought the registrar’s office to get into a class my professor pulled strings for. i got in thankfully. the entire month of September was a self-help month where i got on meds and subsequently decided to start smoking a joint per day. making the meds delay working by a few weeks.

i decided i needed meds because i was going crazy. i was diagnosed with bipolar. that would explain why i was going to bed at 3 am every night and getting up at 8:30 naturally the next morning, wired and without a need for coffee. anyone who knows me, knows i clinically drink too much coffee daily to stay awake (4 drinks, which is 8-10 espresso shots). this being wired was strange. i thought maybe it would go away during class. no. i became depressed during class enough that i was catatonic most of them, then back to wired once i got out and was unleashed in the world once again. i was not retaining anything. not doing homework either. i did not do homework for the entire month of September and most of October. i finally got on meds around the start of October. 

to tell you the truth, 

i don’t remember half of August, September, October, and some of November. the meds lengthened the wired haze i which have been held captive for too much time now. they put me to sleep. at least my diabetic body isn’t trying to kill me at this very minute. 

my dog passed away in October. the tenth to be exact.  1500 miles away from me. i do not accept that. all i remember from that was my mom calling me at 9 pm. i had to convince her that this was the right thing to do. i also remember the route i took. walking circles through Spring Valley for an hour and a half. up 49th Street: four times, down Tilden from Mass Ave to 51st Street: three round trips. 

added onto this, i realized on one semi-lucid day, i was broke because of bad spending habits. that’s one of the side effects of hypomanic highs. impulsivity and spending. so, i obtained a job at a coffee shop in Adams Morgan. my boss is an eccentric man. i am not sure if i have a job still. he changes his mind every so often, as i perceive it.

this has led to more instability regarding food affordability and general life costs. so, everything is either falling apart or unstable somehow. something that that someone with bipolar should not be anywhere near. stability and low stress environments are needed for mood stability.

to contradict that, my partner has been here for me since before i moved back to DC for the year. she has been a stable relationship, and there to help and whatever else she can do from 1500 miles away. i thank them for that. i love them for that.

moving on: around the week before Thanksgiving break, i grew bitter, irritable, and depressed. all symptoms of the other side of bipolar. i started listening to much harder music. shout out to Weatherday, you all should go listen to Lola play music as Weatherday. 

life-changing. 

by this point i was failing three of my four classes because of my lack of doing any homework in general for the whole semester. two professors reached out to me asking what was happening. i explained. both of them were gracious enough to give me opportunities to get my grades back up. i cannot believe they did it and will never be able to thank them enough. three F’s on a transcript because of a tricky mental disorder isn’t what i want to tell young people when i’m old. “back in my day….i failed three classes in my sophomore year of college because i was hypomanic for four months straight.” yeah no. 

i just realized that our editor sent me a text saying to edit the article i had written on October 10th. i never got back to her. i feel terrible. i also remember that day. it was in the middle of the three weeks i was constantly high, while also having a bottle of wine twice a week. imagine manic highs while high. something beyond nature. that is no excuse, however. i am getting right on it.

this semester threw me for a crazy straw of a loop. holy cats. i did not know the human mind could make someone feel so crazy, well i did, but experiencing such things changes one’s mind. i never want this to happen again. i have been hypomanic, one way or another, for the past four months. i have been craving a depressive episode. something to slow down. feel nothing for once. listen to My Bloody Valentine for a night maybe to try and feel something, like I used to do in high school.

i got quirkier and more comfortable with myself as a person. i learned a lot. i could not afford groceries multiple times. the life of a college student at American University in Washington DC, where food is expensive and trying to kill you. sylvia wants to go out with a bang somehow. that bang is the sound of you retching after consuming any on-campus food. maybe when i get back home to Colorado, i will lie down in my partner’s bed and not leave for days out of relief that this heinous semester is over finally.

i associate this semester with the horrific sound of chalk on a chalkboard.