I can feel the post-depression-bounce-back hypomania beginning in my brain; not in my body, only in my brain. Hypomanic symptoms started yesterday evening. Things started seeming clear, perhaps just a little too clear, and certainly a little too fast. Bipolar fast. Gospel music (yes, oddly) played in my head intermittently while I guided an old tourist couple to the park, I drafted my upcoming novel, planned a conversation, and I investigated the fallen tree branch in the middle of the baseball field. Rapid fire thoughts, hypomanic thoughts, took over.

A Hypomanic Bipolar

“Are you ready for a miracle? Ready as I can be.” “Why is this grass so green? It must be watered.” “So tell me, do you think not responding to emails is rude?” “It’s about a ten minute walk that way.” “The opening scene should contain a description of my balcony.” “Are you ready for a miracle? Set yourself free.” “No it should be a cutting scene. With a knife, no an exacto-blade, no, a razor blade. Which part to cut the wrist, the ankle, the thigh…” “Are you ready, ready, ready for a miracle?”

A Hypomanic Bipolar, Looking Crazy

Bipolar Hypomania Speed

Fast, frantic, and fragmented are the words of the hypomanic day. Much of the above is muttered out loud as I walk across the grass making me look crazy. Yes, I understand the ridiculousness of that statement. A bipolar crazy. Imagine.

My body still has not recovered from the depression though so I feel like crap. Not as bad as yesterday. Not as bad as the day before. Those not-as-bad-depression are the good things to think about.

Hypomanias Are Paid for in Depressions

The bad thing to think about is the idea that, as a bipolar, for every moment that I spend hypomanic I can expect to spend at least one corresponding moment depressed. And the ratio is probably closer to 1:10 hypomania to depression. And I haven’t even gotten over the last depression yet. Right, a highly unpleasant thought.