OK I admit it. Or maybe I’ve already admitted it on this blog: I’ve skipped the Seroquel these past few nights. It seemed like a fine idea until now, as I sit here with this buzzing in the back of my brain, with a tired body, with heavy lids that want to close over dry eyes if not for these thoughts darting every which way, keeping me up, keeping me open.
At work today that my behavior was a little strung out. I was obsessively creating outlines and feeling competitive with coworkers. I was feeling overconfident. I was over-sharing about my family and speaking when other people were not really interested in hearing from me. The beginnings of hypomania at its finest.
But instead of staying home tonight like I should, I’m going out to a friend’s birthday party. I’m going to put on a skirt that’s too short because even though I’m exhausted, I’m also elated. I’m charged up, and short skirts were made for nights like this. (Here’s the clinical definition of how I’m feeling.)
p.s. gotta love the irony that this morning I’m offering bipolar tips and this evening i’m admitting to hypomania. but i’ll have it under control soon. i will. i will.