Over the course of the last few months, it seems like all I've done is whined with each entry. Granted, it was a difficult time, but I knew things would eventually break, and that the promise of a hypomanic tomorrow was on the horizon. Well, tomorrow is here, as is the hypomania.
I’m an outdoors fanatic – it can’t be too remote or rough for me. For anyone who has taken a wilderness camping trip or spent any time outdoors in extreme conditions, it can be a lot of fun, but it can also be punishing. A lot of work, at the mercy of the elements, and so forth. During one memorable trip we decided early on that no matter how bad the food, how cold it got, how hard it rained, or how tired we were, we would not complain. Each complaint would cost you a dollar. One night as we were preparing dinner in a cold rain, cooking old-school dehydrated food (which was just a step above dog food), someone made a derogatory comment about the conditions. We all stopped, looked at him, and before we could demand he put a dollar in the hat and said... "But it's just the way I like it!" We all burst out laughing, and after that we could complain as much as we wanted, as long as we added "but it's just the way I like it!" Even though it might be the experience of a lifetime we can always find something to complain about, can't we?
I found myself complaining about my hypomania the other day, and after my struggles of the last two months the thought of complaining about hypomania started me laughing. I thought to myself "but it's just the way I like it!" While there's a lot to like about hypomania, there's also a lot to fear. Many stereotypical bipolar disorder behaviors come out of hypomania such as hypersexuality, out of control spending, and more. In fact, when I tell my pdoc about a hypomania, he gets concerned. He rarely seems concerned about a depression, but mention hypomania and watch his brow furrow and pencil fly across his notebook. I suppose it's right to be concerned, but it's just the way I like it...
As much as this seems like common sense, and as ridiculous as it seems to many of us, there really are some precautions I take when hypomania rolls around.
First, and foremost, avoid substance abuse. Laugh all you want, but as obvious as that statement is on it's face, it's so easy to forget. We feel so good, we're ready to party, and we end up trying to enhance our mood. Years ago I got caught up in the cocaine boom of the late seventies / early eighties, and that was exactly my frame of mind. When you felt great, when you wanted to party, the cocaine made you party even harder. It's no wonder it's so dangerous, on it's face the effects aren't that strong, but what it does to you is so sneaky it can ruin your health and your life before you know what's going on. They say the crystal meth you get today is even worse. I've seen the effects of that first-hand on some acquaintances, and you couldn't get me to touch either of them with a ten foot pole these days.
