Since that psych referral from the GP I’ve been trying to decide whether or not I’ve actually got bipolar disorder. I mean, wouldn’t you? I do like self-diagnosing (and more often than not failing spectacularly, with comical results. Once I impressively self-diagnosed acute pancreatitis (BAD) when it’s probably just indigestion or something (NOT SO BAD). Oops).
Can’t help wondering if I’m about to go into a hypomanic state right now though. Or in a hypomanic state. Or whatever. It’s five in the morning, I’ve yet to sleep, and I feel as if I’d drunk a whole gallon of caffeine. I haven’t slept properly in a week. I don’t even really need sleep right now. I’m churning out blog posts less reservedly. I’m buying things I probably don’t really need. I’m in a goal-setting spree. Tons and tons and tons of ideas and excitement and goals for September. Not to mention a bucket list that I casually wrote up two hours ago. I think I’m awesome today. I’m not a psychiatrist, but that sounds vaguely hypomanic.
On the other hand, I’m not really going to complain. Makes a change from the exhaustion and lack of motivation and isolation of the depressive days. I’m not really getting any adverse effects from this spell either. I have so much excitement and energy and hope. It just feels like I’m suddenly getting my life together. I’m never going to complain about the massive self-esteem. Life just feels awesome right now.
From my limited knowledge of the NHS, I’m guessing I’m not going to see a psychiatrist any time soon. In the meantime, there’s not much I can do besides try not to freak out. I mean, if I do anything life-threateningly idiotic, I’ll go see the mental health crisis team or something. Until I see some sort of healthcare professional, though, all I can do is just hang in there and carry on.