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I'm hypomanic and it's NOT FUN


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I am hypomanic and it really fucking sucks. Hypomania used to be fun. Now it's just obsessions, increasing paranoia, insomnia, some flight of ideas here and there, hypersexuality, agitation, writing a ten paragraph Facebook status and deleting it (and repeat) and basically everything that sucks. 

My energy used to be focused into DOING AMAZING THINGS (and I have actually have some decent accomplishments completed in hypomanic swings) and now I am just scattered as fuck, can't even make dinner for myself. 

it used to be fun and dancing around and getting everything done and LOTS OF INTERESTING thoughts and activities and chatter, everything was just super. At least that was something to look forward to.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm just on lamictal and actually being treated for BP disorder when I used to be on way too many antidepressants and nothing else. I would almost rather be depressed than this shit. Seems like the party's over. Anyone else relate?

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When I was on the Medicoaster, my upswing was still pronounced, but completely lacked the super unpredictable psychosis element. I was happy with that.

But, when medicated, rather than the 'typical' progression through creative, inventive, productive, focused, social, artistic hypomania.. everything just got scrambled and frustrating instead. My passion for expressing ideas, thoughts, feelings, emotions was replaced with indifference. I still wanted to surf that wave, but I didn't have the energy for it. 

Medication took away too much of my identity and left me feeling very detached. Once I had enough time to rationalize the stressors that provoked the psychosis, the side effects became worse than the illness. I wasn't acting crazy anymore, but.. I felt possessed. I had no idea who I was. The medication put a different brain in my head that was making me think, feel, and act differently. The problem was how consciously aware of it that I was. I couldnt accept the fake new replacement version of myself.. living a double life of no longer being me. 3 years of riding the Medicoaster and trying different combinations of things was really causing problems. I flushed them and walked away from professional help entirely.

Life events in the decade since I have been off medication have pushed me down a path towards distrust, depression, and social anxiety. I have become an expert at sacrifice, avoiding stress by living a very simple life and avoiding pretty much all human interaction. Thankfully, I have not had any recurrence of a full manic episode. 

It has been a very unique and strange trip for me. At this point, I am such a mental mess, I am scared to seek help. I learned the limitations of professionals 15 years ago. As long as the psychosis stays muted, I can handle things. Anybody who gets a glimpse of my personality probably thinks I desperately need help. At the same time, they didn't see my illness evolve, or see how badly my body reacted to medication.

I'm not sure how you can relate my reply to your post, but.. I do know that mental illness and medication can definitely play with the mind in some really wierd ways. 2 seperate manic episodes nearly killed me, the medication was equally as maddening and now? Lots of room for improvement. Until the psychosis returns, I have lost confidence in the medical system to be able to accurately identify, diagnose, or treat whatever my tangled knot of an illness has slowly become. 

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