I’ve been hypomanic, but I didn’t realize to what extent exactly. Yes, there has been hilarious dancing, yes I have been walking up to strangers on the street and talking to them, and yes, my anxiety around spending money has been lifted and I casually bought a pair of shorts.
When I got into my therapist’s office yesterday (our relationship renewed by medicaid’s promise to give me 33 free sessions) I said,
“Well, I’ve been having trouble sleeping and I’ve been running all over the city for two days straight, but things don’t seem too intense.”
I shrugged and wrote off my symptoms. After all, I wasn’t experiencing any agitation (or even racing thoughts), and things hadn’t reached the point of mania (where people couldn’t understand what I was saying anymore) so things seemed fine.
After about fifteen minutes of talking and filling out some paperwork my therapist looked at me and said,
“I realize this may be coming out of left field, but you’re speaking rapidly, using much more exaggerated hand gestures than usual, and your volume is just short of yelling.”
I was shocked, not that she said that to me… but that I hadn’t any idea that I was doing any of these things.
To be fair, two years ago I couldn’t pinpoint manic symptoms in myself short of starting a fight with a pharmacist or believing I was a werewolf. It seems so much easier to pinpoint symptoms of depression or mixed episodes, because they feel unpleasant. How difficult is it to notice I am experiencing something or doing something that feels great?
When it comes to hypomania, I can recognize insomnia, or a lack of hunger, or high waves of energy, even giddiness and elation. Less straightforward is the part where this becomes funneled through me and introduces itself to other people’s lives.
I don’t really know how to pinpoint symptoms like rapid speech and exaggerated hand gestures, short of someone pointing them out to me. Even then, my therapist asked if he pointing these things out made me want to change my behavior. At the time, sitting there, I said no.
As much as I am afraid of coming off wild and intensely, I know this period also lends itself to a certain hilarity that I can’t embrace quite the same way at other times. It becomes easier to tell jokes, easier to laugh at jokes, and easier to take conversational risks.
I know this can ball itself up and transform into mania (or even a mixed state) but it seems as though the acting excitedly itself isn’t an issue. Just because I am paying close attention, monitoring my sleep and eating to try to keep things wrangled in doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun.
And after a little depression, don’t we all deserve a little fun?