Hey, I have an idea…

When you are bipolar – even just hypomanic like me – you have lots of ideas. Tons of ideas. Sometimes they come out of nowhere and zap me like static electricity. Sometimes they are more like popcorn popping – one pop here, then another and another and then they’re popping all over the place, at the same time. Sometimes I have an idea that sucks me into its vortex, where time and distraction do not exist. Just the pure, consuming singularity of the idea.

Sometimes I start talking about an idea I didn’t even know I had until I hear myself speak it. Then I say to myself, whoa, that’s a good idea! Where did THAT come from? Just give me a topic, a conundrum or crisis and I WILL have an idea. I love ideas. How can a person not have ideas?

My problem is the delivery. I get kind of excited when I have a really good idea. Apparently my enthusiasm kind of scares people. I recognize it when folks lean back, tilt their head, inhale, raise their eyebrows and stare at me like they’re looking over a pair of imaginary reading glasses. Some of my ideas intimidate people who kick themselves for not coming up with the same idea. They come out swinging with feeble little punches, trying to poke holes in my idea.

Then I get indignant, arrogant and impatient. The switch is flipped. The adrenaline flows. If I am not careful I will verbally eviscerate any contender who dares set foot in the ring. It can be brilliant and terrifying – and I used to love it. LOVE IT. It was like being high, all powerful and all knowing, perfectly present in the moment with every synapse sizzling. When it’s over my hands shake – vibrate – and my mind races. I cannot find the brakes. I have no OFF switch.

Welcome to my mania. Now you have an idea of what it feels like.

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From Psych Central's website:
PsychCentral (August 27, 2009)

    Last reviewed: 26 Aug 2009