Hypomania…the strange and horrible Gift of Bipolar

Ahh…Hypomania……

our compensation prize

Hypomania is those first warm days of spring when life seems new and fresh

trees abloom

deep inhales of intoxicating sun washed air

tingles down your spine at the anticipation..joyous anticipation of the mundane and the miraculous

Hypomania is

the fluttering in your stomach when the person you like says they like you too…

the flying certain feeling that life is aligning the stars ashining

It is that first soft sweater in the Fall…

those first days of the rebirth of the darkness after the burnt out summer when cozy is just the thing

golden trees reds jeweled all above and all ablaze

hints of woodsmoke through the woods …from neighboring houses

crackling golden burning fires. The warmth that climbs your face

It is the warm sand between your toes

the sun kissing your whole body

the light that penetrates the heavens

smells of fresh cut summer grass and fireflies dancing in the night..

It is the feeling upon receiving the best toy of your whole childhood..

it is cinnamon and citrus zest nutmeg and apples

any smell that takes you somewhere where you felt loved….

Hypomania is that power you felt when something strong happened inside of you…

the energy you felt as a child that propelled you forth into all sorts of creations and endeavors

the buzz of life itself in every single cell

a child’s appreciation

wonder and awe and awareness of beauty in everything even the unbeautiful

music everything music everywhere

beauty steeped in everything steeped in beauty

power

i can do it i can be it i can feel it i can have it…

i can know it i can change it i can learn it i can heal it…

hypomania is the umbilical cord to the magic and beauty of everything…

it is everything happy in life wrapped up and placed into your heart in one lovely package

for you

it is a direct connection to an energy that bubbles like champagne through your whole body

everything is possible

pleasurable

filled to the brim with meaning…

waiting for you…

some people say that the closest a non bipolar can come to this feeling of hypomania is when newly in love….

I once heard someone describe Hypomania as being …

IN LOVE WITH LIFE ITSELF…

a passionate infatuation with LIFE…

It is some of the best there is to be had on the planet…

I really want to end this there

but

Some of us want more

Some of us never want to see it again

Some of us have been through hell and yet wouldn’t change it because of times like these

Some of us do everything in our power to try to stop it…

some of us hate it, resent it, long to destroy it

some of us can’t help but welcome it after months of depression and numbness and hating life

others of us catch the wave and ride it all the way to the crash figuring if the crash is coming we may as well enjoy the ride….

But we all know…

It is not a gift you get for free……………….

There is a cost…we pay dearly for a gift we never even asked for…

It turns on us…

selling us out to full blown mania

or getting tired of us and dropping us into the crashing sea of depression

or turning itself on us to give us the joys of agitated awfulness anxious mixed horrors

Hypomania is not a train that will take you anywhere you want to go even if the ride is a dream.

It can take you all the way down

So we break up with it…”I love you but you are no good for me”…..

we block its number…we unfriend it…change the locks.

We move on

Then we feel a bubble ripple through…a tingle…a slow smile creeeeeeps in.  We look over our shoulders in a quick panic that someone sees, that someone knows….

We want to enjoy this tryst with our hypo without shame, without anyone knowing.  Just for a few precious moments. Friends will sigh and shake their heads and say it’s no good for you.

A song means more, the cars move in perfect formations, trees are so green, the sky is so blue, everything feels meaningful, we understand life itself again….all of a sudden we are inspired.  We turn up the music and hear ourselves laughing out loud…..

And then it hits like a dead fish smashing a butterly.  We know we shouldn’t be liking this.  We know we should do something about it, tell somebody, go home, stop whatever spontaneous amazing thing we are concocting…..

Then what…

Then there is that moment, place, hole, bubble…that place of being and thought that belongs completely and utterly and only to those with Bipolar.  A place where we are on our knees before Bipolar faced once again with the power and betrayal and enigma… blessing..curse..magic..horror…

gifted magic…for the price of a piece of our self….

on one side something we love but never asked for and never want…it is just thrust upon us…most of the time we can’t stop it even if we really try…

on the other side a hand extended demanding the steepest payment for a gift we had no choice but take…..

deep shit