Onika L. Dainty

When Feeling Great Isn’t Always Good

I used to love the early stages of hypomania—the creativity, the confidence, the endless energy. It felt like I had finally stepped into the best version of myself. Hypomania can be intoxicating, even euphoric, but it never lasts. It always slips into something darker, sometimes ending in hospitalization.

For those of us living with bipolar disorder, hypomania feels like a gift but is often a warning sign. While others may feel energized because of real-life events—a new job, a big achievement—hypomania can appear without reason. That unpredictability makes it difficult to recognize until it’s already reshaping your world.

This blog explores what hypomania really is, how to recognize its signs, and why understanding it is essential for mental health stability and self-compassion.

A Closer Look: What Is Hypomania?

Hypomania is a milder form of mania. It involves an elevated, expansive, or irritable mood lasting at least four days, often with increased activity or energy. Unlike full mania, hypomania doesn’t cause severe impairment, psychosis, or always require hospitalization.

Common Symptoms

• Elevated mood or irritability
  

• Reduced need for sleep
  

• Racing thoughts and pressured speech
  

• Increased energy and goal-driven activity
  

• Impulsivity and poor judgment
  

• Inflated self-esteem or grandiose thinking
  

Hypomania in Bipolar I vs. Bipolar II

• Bipolar I: Hypomania may precede more severe manic episodes, often with psychosis and significant impairment.
  

• Bipolar II: Hypomania involves similar symptoms but without psychosis or hospitalization. It can still disrupt judgment, relationships, and wellness.
  

Though less severe than mania, hypomania often blurs the line between “productive energy” and dangerous instability.

The Allure and the Risks of Hypomanic States

Hypomania often begins with heightened creativity, motivation, and excitement. You may wake with energy after little sleep, throw yourself into projects, or feel “superhuman.” But the shadow side quickly follows: risky choices, impulsive spending, reckless relationships, or pushing your body and mind beyond safe limits.

The crash afterward can be devastating—filled with shame, guilt, and exhaustion. I’ve learned through lived experience that these behaviours aren’t personal flaws but symptoms of a complex illness. Self-compassion is essential. I am not my illness, and neither are you.

Learning to Recognize Hypomania in Real Time

Recognizing hypomania early is difficult—especially when it feels good. But awareness is key to prevention.

Strategies That Helped Me:

• Identify Triggers: Lack of sleep is a major one for me, especially during travel. Good sleep hygiene helps protect against mood shifts.
  

• Listen to Feedback: Trusted friends or mentors can often spot changes—like pressured speech or irritability—before I do. Taking their observations seriously is an act of self-care.
  

• Self-Monitoring Tools: Journaling and mood-tracking apps create a record of shifts over time. Radical honesty with yourself is essential here.
  

When I feel the euphoric pull of hypomania, I ask myself: Where will this lead? What happens after the high?
For me, the answer has often been manic psychosis, hospitalization, and months of recovery. That truth keeps me grounded.

Managing Hypomania Without Shame

Managing hypomania means staying consistent with whatever system supports your mental health:

• Medication adherence (if part of your plan)
  

• Crisis prevention planning for when episodes escalate
  

• Self-compassion over self-criticism, reframing hypomania as a signal rather than a failure
  

The goal isn’t to suppress joy, but to recognize when joy turns into dysregulation and to respond with care.

Final Thoughts: Knowing Your High Is Knowing Your Illness

Hypomania is both a gift and a warning. It signals that my brain is edging toward instability and that it’s time to return to the tools that help me heal—sleep, medication, therapy, and self-awareness.

I’ve had episodes last days, weeks, even months. I never know when they’ll arrive, but I always know when they’re here. Over time, I’ve learned that chasing the high isn’t worth sacrificing my long-term wellness.

My goal is not to avoid joy or excitement but to distinguish between authentic happiness and emotional instability. That wisdom only comes with self-awareness, compassion, and practice.

To my readers: Have you ever mistaken a mental health symptom for personal growth? What helps you tell the difference between rising and unraveling?