What Does Bipolar Hypomania Feel Like?
Hypomania. People haven’t generally heard of that word, but once they have, they want to know, what does bipolar hypomania feel like? This is a reasonable question with a completely unreasonable answer.
What is Bipolar Hypomania?
Hypomania can occur in many illnesses but it is a diagnostic feature of bipolar II. People with bipolar II experience hypomanias as opposed to the manias of bipolar I. I generally shortcut the definition and simply say that hypomania is like mania light.
Bipolar hypomania is not life-threatening by definition. Mania, on the other hand, is. In fact, to me hypomanias are little more than a bother. Well, a bother with the positive side effect of being a very fast way to get work done. Usually, but not always. Bipolar moods and their impacts tend to be unpredictable.
This is not the case for everyone, however. Hypomanias can jump in and destroy your life quite nicely, thanks. They remove judgement and create a sense of hypersexuality for many. This leads to, say, jumping the bones of the person next to you, over and over. Or spending money that you don’t have on Versace handbags. Or gambling away your rent money. Or writing an endless stream of gobbledygook and posting it on the internet making you seem a little, um, nutty, all the while insisting that it was genius. Or being so angry that you scream at the flies (not to mention people) that dare annoy you by entering your apartment. And other things. All of which have a habit of harming relationships and lifestyles.
What Does Hypomania Feel Like?
Like a freight train running through the middle of my head.
Like being trapped in a tiny phone booth with 12 other people and they’re all yelling at you to the point where all their voices become an untenable din.
Like a brain being on speed while a human, flesh body tries desperately, unsuccessfully to catch up.
Like being a genius that no one understands and being annoyed at the stupidity of everyone else.
Like being unable to complete a thought before another comes and runs over the first, blanking it out without completion.
Like jittery cells inside a solid frame. Sharp, jagged cells ripping into your flesh.
Like torment from the pulsating cells walls that won’t shut up for one moment and let you think.
Like crying and running and screaming and jumping and scratching and clawing and hitting and gnashing all at the same time.
Like tossing and turning all night long with tormenting dreams in slips of unconsciousness no matter how many sleeping pills you take.
Like anxiety created from not being able to quell the millions of thoughts or being able to facilitate the 1000s of movements being demanded of the human body all at once.
And like a million other things all happening at once inside one tiny head unable to contain them all.
And, personally, I have to keep telling myself that everything is fine because it feels like it’s really not and that I’m going to freak the hell out at the very next moment.
Dealing with Bipolar Hypomania
I’ve written before about dealing with bipolar hypomania but I think one of the things to remember about hypomania is you might not be able to think logically enough to be able to take even simple advice. Try to remember this. Try to remember that you might not be thinking logically. Try to remember that the advice you thought was good when you were thinking clearly is probably the advice you should follow now, even if you don’t feel like it.
And the most important rule is this – do not encourage bipolar hypomania. To many people bipolar hypomania feels good, especially after a prolonged depression. So they want it and they encourage it by doing things they ought not do like drinking 25 energy drinks and staying up all night long.
But remember this: the higher you fly, the farther there is to fall and the bigger the crater you’ll make once you do. Everything has a price and the price of bipolar hypomania tends to be bone-crushing depression. And that’s something no one thinks feels good.
Leslie - January 12, 2013 ←
My husband is severely bipolar. But his mania/depression is somewhat predictable. About three days out of the week he sleeps maybe two hours a night. Then for the remaining days that’s he wants to do. He was a drug addict (Meth) before I met him an I have accused him of using frequently but I honestly think its mania. He doesn’t talk wildly fast but he’s full of energy and more motivates and calm. When he’s not in mania he’s a jerk…says a lot of mean things to me and kids. He isn’t on meds BC we can’t afford to go to Dr. Ne ideas, suggestions, input.
Caroline - December 5, 2012 ←
I am bipolar 2, and used to experience hypo-mania, before going on medication, and now I don’t experience it anymore, but I can honestly say, as terrible as this may sound, I miss it! Unlike Mania where you don’t feel in control, with hypo mania, in my experience, you feel very in control, and completely on top of your game, happy, productive, energized, etc. Frankly, I got more done and felt best during these times, and the loss of them has presented it’s own challenges in figuring out how to motivate and be productive now that they are gone. I used to be able to rely on them to come around so I could get things accomplished that had fallen behind when I wasn’t having one of those episodes, but I no longer can do that, and have to relearn methods to be productive and energized. However, the crash afterwards is terribly depressing and debilitating. While i miss the episodes, it is far better overall to be more consistently “even”. Like drugs that give you a “high”, it may feel good, but ultimately it’s bad for you.
Thomas Gillis - December 3, 2012 ←
I experience hypomania on a regular basis – I am Bi-polar and I am a rapid cycler. I go through states of hypomania and depression that can be characterized as mild to severe. It is a constant struggle. One day I have $5000 in my checking account and two months later I do not have money for cigarettes or gas in my car. The I come to my senses and wonder how did this happen. In the end my bipolar is destroying my marriage and work life. At times I can not sleep for 48 hours and them I take a prescribed med and sleep for twelve. I have learned to live with bipolar disorder as I was diagnosed 20 years ago. But I can not function like an everyday regular person, I never know when the next round of highs and lows are coming. There are no easy answers and I get little sympathy from the people in my life. Some how I will carry on and try to use my Bipolar to my advantage. Wish me luck. Many of use with Bipolar need help and need to be recognized as having a serious disorder, but we don’t – sometimes that is the hard part.
Liz - November 10, 2012 ←
I didn’t understand hypomania for the longest time. The way I was just seemed too mild, and I didn’t recognize the ugly, irritable bits for what they were. Hypomania, as experienced by the average person, sounds so dramatic. And looks dramatic when you see it in person. In my case, it’s not. So I ignored it for many years, until the day I became an enlightened being and had the truth of the universe revealed to my via conversations with “god.”
Now that I am unquestioningly bipolar I have the confidence to identify my hypomania, and it is often subtle. I can sleep 5 hours a night. I pick up more activities. I become a genius but I know better than to tell anybody. Things might move fast, but it’s light and pleasant. Only those who know me well can tell. The rest just think I’m particularly chipper.
Even during my biggest mania, which wasn’t florid but had psychotic features, my loved ones couldn’t tell. I have somehow always retained the sense to not share my craziest thoughts with the normal world. I don’t know if I appear normal or if people are just afraid to say anything. If I hadn’t been diagnosed bipolar by 3 different doctors, I would still doubt I had it.
All of which is neither here nor there, just sharing after having enjoyed reading about the experience of others. As for preventing it, lithium nipped it in the bud. It’s going the other way that I have to worry about.
Sarah - November 11, 2012 ←
This sounds more like my experience than others that I’ve read. I never told about my mini-delusions to anyone when hypomanic, until the full manic/psychotic experience.
Caroline - December 5, 2012 ←
EXACTLY!!! my experience is very similar!
Sam Barnett-Cormack - November 5, 2012 ←
Wonderful, wonderful description. I was diagnosed around a year ago, changing my long-standing depression diagnosis (with notes of features of recurrence and such) with bipolar II. This followed a period of Cognitive Analytic Therapy where we noted a problematic ‘up’ pattern as well as the down one.
For me, the main thing about it can be summarised by a distinction with full-blown mania; a manic person will believe they are able to do something they can’t, in a ridiculous and obvious (to other people) way – serious delusions. A hypomanic person will believe they are able to do something they can’t, in a more subtle way – like volunteer for every favour anyone is asking for, all at once. The positive effects of the hypomania do let me get more done – and they do sometimes come at need, stress can trigger an up or down for me – but not as much more as I feel like I can do at the time. Then I fail, and let people down, keeping up the delusion for a surprising time. Almost always followed by a much worse depressive episode than those that start from baseline.
Thank you for sharing what you have.
Katt - November 5, 2012 ←
It kind of like that first moment when you start the highest drop of a rollercoaster. It’s similar to how I imagine the first few seconds would feel after initiating warp speed on the Enterprise.
Pamela Gold - November 4, 2012 ←
I try to trigger hypomania daily. I was off all caffeine, per doctor’s orders but went back on to the max. I want euphoric hypomania. I usually experience the anger side. I’d do anything to get it! Even consider going back on Abilify, which had me awake for days of creativity!
David - November 3, 2012 ←
Last Monday night – as Sandy was roaring overhead – I walked out of the house and down the driveway. And I realized the storm was the perfect analogy for hypomania – one part astonishing and one part terrifying.
I was in my bare feet btw. What does that tell you?
We still don’t have power back so I suppose I should try to string this hypomanic state out as long as I can….
JulieC - November 3, 2012 ←
Yeah. Hypomania is feeling kinda superior when you look at people who abuse drugs. “You pay money and risk arrest to feel like this. All I have to do is nothing.” Then you pause, and pause, and pause, “Oh, by the way, here’s why it royally *sucks*.”
OTOH, if you’re in a decent relationship so the sex you’re getting is safe and okay for you to have—there is pretty much nothing in the world like a blasted-out-of-your mind hypomanic, hypersexual sex binge. Except that your partner just can’t keep up, dammit.
Alas, the ups have to be paid for with downs. Far better to never, never let them happen, and to stop them as soon as possible when you can.
But if you’re stuck on the ride–sometimes it doesn’t suck. (Or does.)
Hey, wouldn’t do it on purpose, but it’s the truth. There are few and very rare compensations to the suckosity of having bipolar. The mindblowing sex part is okay.
Pamela Worden - November 3, 2012 ←
My father was 32 when he died from suicide Dx:Bi-polar, schizophrenia, I had a twin sister, her & I were Dx: Bi-polar, ptsd, schizophrenia, among other psychological dis-ease with genius level IQ’s. My sister died at 33 from…suicide. I am 42 see my Dr reg but I have a voice deep calling me to be with my sister.
Barbara - November 5, 2012 ←
Hi Pamela
I know exactly how you feel, I to lost a brother to suicide, specialist believe he had the same than me, bipolar II and yes our illness tries to persuade us that joining them is the answer but let us try to believe that we mustn’t let this horrible illness control us and that life is worth living, hugs xx
Sheila - November 2, 2012 ←
Good article Natasha. Thanks.
The good and the bad.
I have experienced the hypomanic state as a welcomed, short-lived bit of “comic relief” in the midst of a depression. I’ve woken up to displaced ribs brought on by the stress of depression, moved onto wildly singing Christmas carols (oh, the ridiculousness of it all), and then returned to my bed in a depressed state.
I am much more likely though, to feel like a dumbass after a period of having, like you’ve said, felt like a genius and annoyed at the stupidity of everyone else. I’m just not me when I’m hypomanic.
All in all, I’ll take my healthy state over a hypomanic one any day.
I think you’ve come up with a list that describes it well.
Lauren - November 2, 2012 ←
I just found your blog today. This is the first post I’ve read and… it’s hard for me to put into words… wow. I’m Bipolar NOS and I just rarely find people talking or writing in Bipolar-ese.
Normally I’m the one explaining what hypomania is, having to tell someone that yes, I did scrub the baseboards at 4:20 am because I didn’t sleep for two days and, it just *had* to be done. That’s a relatively mild example, but it’s a crazy weird feeling with some crazy weird effects.
Thanks for sharing. I look forward to reading more.
JulieC - November 2, 2012 ←
If they could bottle hypomania it would be the most addictive drug ever. But at the same time, you learn from hypomania that the ups have to be paid for with downs, and that the price of the crash is almost never worth it.
Yeah, I tell people why i don’t do “recreational” drugs and why I don’t think they should. Taking recreational drugs is usually the straights trying to mimic hypomania. They’re slumming in crazy-ville. Those of us who live there are trying hard to get out on a weekend pass, or get an apartment in a better place and visit the old ‘hood as rarely as possible.
Neurotypical people taking recreational drugs don’t realize that they’re breaking their normal, healthy brain on purpose and just blithely assuming it will be temporary. Yeah. Just because you can get into the neighborhood doesn’t mean you’re gonna get back out.
And the crash after the high always, always, always sucks.
I don’t get high sometimes because I want to. I get high sometimes because my brain’s broken.
I describe bipolar type 2 and hypomania as like being at a party with a drink in your hand, in an open cup, that you have to keep looking away from, and you have to keep sipping. Every once in awhile someone comes along and drops a drug in your drink.
And you can’t quit sipping, and you can’t put down the drink.
All you can do is pay attention to how you’re acting and *try* to notice and guess how you’ve been drugged by your drink *this* time, and take opposite-drugs to try to counteract the effects. And those aren’t perfect.
But hey, if you notice you’re having a good time on whatever got dumped in your drink, sure, you can just ride with it—-nothing illegal about that. It’s just that you might do some really embarrassing, life-altering, and crappy things while you’re having that grand old time, and the crash afterwards *suuuuuuuuuckkkkkkks*.
Bipolar (II) is god’s way of dumping rufies in your drink. Now don’t you feel speshul?
AshleyDoll - November 9, 2012 ←
I *love* your analogies! I could relate to them and they made me laugh.