Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

This ought to be interesting……I am full-on hypomanic and I’m gonna try to chase down a few stray thoughts for this blog post. At least the title was easy—I’m listening to the radio and Cyndi Lauper is singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Which is PERFECT, because I, personally, am having a blast!

First I had those two really awesome days in a row. Unfortunately for my poor hubby, who has to put up with me, this has had the effect of reversing the progress I was making in coming down, and today I’ve got energy to burn. In fact, I got a good day’s worth of fall yard work done in a matter of about three hours: yanked the tomato plants (there were about five cherries left on the vine and they were frozen solid!), got my ginormous hydrangea pruned back, and wrestled it into submission by tying it up to a piece of firewood so it’ll grow straight for a change.

Then I did a round of Round-Up to kill those f*cking dandelions that have plagued my yard all summer, cleaned up the crap on my gardening table, mulched the flower beds, and pulled all the petunias which have croaked. THEN I pressure-washed the porch……but not for four hours, of course. (That happens only when I’m totally manic.) What the hell, at least I’m channeling all this extra vim and vigor constructively, right?

Now I’m just trying not to annoy my husband, who hates it when I can’t stop moving OR talking. I keep having to go back over my sentences because I keep making typos. We both know what’s going on—I have THAT much insight, at least—and as much as I don’t want to, I know I’ll have to call my p-doc in the morning. I don’t want to admit that the wheels are coming off the bus when I had such a nice run of normal. I don’t want to take more meds. I don’t want to buy more meds. And I don’t want to give up feeling BADASS.

But I still have enough going for me upstairs to know that I have to.

This has been going on too long. I started ramping up the weekend before last (IIRC) and if my history is any indicator, there may be only another couple of days before I hop aboard the Crazy Train and start driving the futhermucker. And with a weekend of work ahead of me, that CAN, NOT. HAPPEN.

What was that I was saying about the diagnosis being wrong? WTF was I thinking when I said it??!! And why, oh why, do I have to make myself stop just when everything feels so damn good? After all……girls just wanna have fun!


Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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