I leaned my head on the cold window and stared outside. I was entranced by the way we seemingly pushed rapidly against the way the world was spinning. Garbage that lined the curbs, the trees, the bushes, the parked cars, and early risers walking on the sidewalks all blurred into one conglomerated mess that made my stomach turn. It was only 8:30 am and I wanted the day to be over with already. I looked at Shawn who was rhythmically tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the song on the radio.
“I feel like you normal folk. Achingly tired and boring,” I said.
“What? What does that even mean?” Shawn asked.
“The circus left town and took my happy purple puppy balloon with it.” Shawn looked quizzically at me. “The hypomania has fizzled out.”
“Well, that’s a good thing right?”
Hypomania is an unmistakeable feeling. It’s your insides being spun like a busy wind chime caught by the very first gorgeous spring breeze. It entices you to start removing layers of drab, heavily weighted winter wear. You expose your skin to the sun, that had been missing for months, and you feel it caress you with its peaceful warmth. The world, that was once excruciatingly noisy and too painfully bright, had forced you to hide yourself in shadows and close your eyes. Now, when you open them, the world is full of vivid colours and crisp lines. Your mind is as clear as the blue sky above.
A happy; your effortless laughter that was buried for far too long, surfaces and you want to share it with anyone who wants it.
Your heart erupts in an excitement that intensely energizes your soul and makes you feel incredibly alive. Brilliant thoughts emerge from the crevices of your mind that you never knew you had and it allows creativity to flourish. You want to do everything that you didn’t have the drive to do nor the desire to do. Because of this, it’s imperative that you do them; all at once.
Your mind, body, and spirit work harmoniously together giving you the highest highs that you will ever experience. That world whispers to me, “Come and play,” and every single time I do.
When you’re given this present, you embrace it, because you don’t know when the wretched side of your mind will grab your hand and pull you back into a world that is bereft of anything worth waking for.
With hypomania, I am reborn and rather than robotically trudging through my days, I move with purpose. Why would I deny myself that?
It’s an addiction.
“Just one more time. It won’t be as bad as the last,” I think to myself.
I will admit that I initially allow it to run its course. I do not medicate it (as in adding an extra dash of anti-psychotic medication), I do not force myself to sleep as much as I should, I heed the warnings of my overworked body and refuse to stay still.
The downside of up is the crash. It’s like driving a car with your foot pressed on the gas and then hitting a patch of black ice. The car takes command of the steering wheel and no matter how much you try to struggle against it, the car keeps spinning and spinning until it slams against a brick wall.
The crash causes confusion as to what just happened and it pisses you off beyond belief. You can feel every single muscle in your body as you get out of the car; almost feeling painfully heavy in your skin. As you look behind you, you can see the damage that the hypomania had done…all of which YOU ARE responsible for.
You want to cry and shout and thrash and hide and sleep and pray that you’ll be able to pull your shit together before your soul settles in a depressive episode.
“I suppose,” I said in response to Shawn’s question and pressed my head back up against the cold window.
Have you ever experienced a hypomanic episode before?
What are some of the things you have done while hypomanic?
Did you crash afterwards?