When Hypomania Convinces Me I'll Be Rich and Famous
Please see a doctor before starting or stopping a medication.
I am bouncing off the walls. Every time I move, I sing and dance like I’m Beyoncé. When I sit down, some part of me always has to be moving. It’s usually my foot shaking uncontrollably. I get told to calm down and relax, but I just can’t. The jitters won’t go away that easily.
My mind races from one thing to the next. From wanting to make a YouTube channel to get rich, to wanting to read books (which I can’t focus on), to wanting to go shopping, to wanting to try to become a chef, to everything and anything I can possibly think of.
And speaking of wanting to make a YouTube channel to get rich, I also have wild ideas that suddenly, I will be famous. Suddenly, I will be a YouTube star. Even though I hate being in front of the camera when I’m not hypomanic and I don’t even know what I would talk about on my channel, it doesn’t matter because I’m going to be famous and rich.
The wild ideas continue and spiral. I’m going to pay off all my debt, even my massive student loans, even though I am currently barely working, if at all, because of my mental health. I’m going to make six figures or more. How? I don’t know, but I’m going to do it.
I feel as if I already do make that much money. I’m flying high on these ideas and desires, and it feels like I have willed them into existence. So, I buy things. Even though my bank account screams at me to stop and the yet-to-be paid bills sit ignored. I’m going to make so much money, it doesn’t matter. I can spend and make it up. I am invincible.
Suddenly though, some of the buzz wears off and I get frustrated and agitated. Why haven’t I become a millionaire yet? Why hasn’t anything changed in the last 12 hours? I willed this into existence, so where is it? The anger takes over and I feel like a caged animal. I pace back and forth around the house or outside wanting to punch something or someone. I feel trapped. I want to scream.
And then the wave of euphoria comes back and I feel good again. Tomorrow, it will happen. Tomorrow will be different, I tell myself. Tomorrow, my plans and ideas will come to reality. I continue thinking about all the wonderful things that will happen to me late into the night.
Then, I take my sleeping medications to go to bed (because I wouldn’t sleep otherwise). I lay in bed with my heart and mind racing, waiting for the pills to kick in. I finally fall asleep. The night is restless, and I wake up a lot.
I’m up by 5 a.m. I don’t even feel that tired. I don’t even want my morning coffee right away. I’m too busy with plans and ideas and new goals to try to achieve today. I am scattered and unfocused, but I feel great. Another day of happiness and shopping awaits.
You can follow my journey on Living With Bipolar II.
Unsplash image by Alex Iby