Definitions from Oxford Languages
My husband thinks I’m working on our taxes.
How do I tell him I’m either:
on the brink of a clarifying breakthrough in my own mental fitness journey,
or
on the precipice of a descent into a hypomanic state that could threaten to unravel the very foundation of our lives?
(Me, operating at a functional level to remain employed, as the single income provider for seven humans, is somewhat at the base of our survival hierarchy.)
I’ll write for ten minutes, then do taxes for ten minutes. Ice on ice off for mental health and adulting. This is therapeutic writing as a form of self-care. People journal all the time! That’s what I’m telling myself.
In three days I’ve jotted down twenty pages of incoherent-even-to-me babble that has been flooding out like a mental diarrhea that apparently is even alarming my personal tech cloud. Google is worried about me2, and has officially sent me a warning; “Can’t detect more grammar errors. Text is too long”. It makes me chuckle that a program, designed by a company that can sift through the bowels of this online world we call the interweb is throwing up its hands and giving up.
I’m not sure where I came across this new-to-me term hypomania3 in the spiderweb of google searches over the last few days that would likely get me committed – but I’ve definitely seen a few things in it that I can’t unsee.
As I’m writing things down, even badly – I AM feeling better.
What is the line between self-care and being your own source of narcissistic supply?4
If you delve further down the Dr. Google rabbit hole, hypomania seems to be defined clinically by a duration of four consecutive days. This is day three. Provided I get my brain down-geared for tomorrow morning (conveniently a Monday morning, and the work routines that come with it), I’ll be fine …right?
Back to my husband who thinks I’m doing taxes. What DO I say to him?
“Hey honey, I’ve started an anonymous blog to help organize my thoughts because even google is telling me to fuck off and that I might have a problem?”
Is this writing:
a) a cathartic release & ultimately positive progress?
or
b) a cry for help & product of hypomania?
I suspect a little of A and a little of B. Don’t put me in a box. Time will tell, dear readers. Time will tell.
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- Definition sourced from google, via Oxford Languages ↩︎
- Okay, “worried” is a bit of a stretch. But I’m definitely giving it a mild “does not compute” seizure. ↩︎
- Photo mocked up from mind.org.uk ↩︎
- I don’t believe I’m a narcissist – but who does, really? ↩︎
Writing_In_Italics 
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