I’ve been somewhere between hypomanic and manic for a number of weeks now. Then yesterday, this happened to my mania.
I just sort of sunk down out of it. Like Charlie in the Fizzy Lifting drink scene in Willy Wonka after a few good burps. It felt nice; a relief. I’m not sure if I’m becoming depressed or I’ve been so used to being manic. I’m still writing a lot, so I’m probably not quite depressed, and I may not be quite off the manic high.
I just now took a moment to close my eyes and feel. I feel as if I’m wearing a heavy, cool blanket. I feel very nice. Perhaps as if I had a couple of shots of good bourbon…would that I could.
I slept without a sleeping aid for the first time in weeks despite the fact that my wife was spread out in the middle of the bed and snoring hard. I just rolled over, thanked God for my sobriety and for another day of living and drifted off.