Onika L. Dainty

But something has changed, or maybe I have. Since my last severe manic episode, which led to a four-month stay in a psychiatric hospital, I have learned that the journey back to baseline does not have to mean enduring chaos before finding peace. With the right support, determination, and self-awareness, healing can look and feel different.

The summer of 2025 was a whirlwind. I traveled, took on new projects, became a caregiver, and published three blogs a week so readers could walk beside me on this wellness journey. My adventures took me to both new and familiar places, but I failed to notice how exhausted I had become. I convinced myself that small adjustments to my sleep routine would keep me stable and moving forward. What I did not recognize was that my constant motion was not just ambition, it was avoidance. I was running far and fast, refusing to think about what I was really trying to escape.

In May 2024, my mother was diagnosed with dementia, and in the months since, it has progressed. Though she remains physically strong, her memory has begun to fade. Three other relatives in my family are also living with dementia, all at different stages of their journeys. It has been hard for us all because we are a close-knit family, bound by love and history. My Gran Gran Alvira used to say, “Family sticks together because when one of us bleeds, we all bleed.” Lately, I feel like I am hemorrhaging under the weight of my mother’s illness.

As the eldest daughter of two, I have taken on the role of her primary caregiver. My days are filled with doctor’s appointments, daily check-ins, travel companionship, financial management, and personal care. I needed to breathe, so I took a month off. But when I came home, the responsibilities were still waiting for me.

Then came another loss. In November 2024, I lost my sister-cousin to cancer. I have not allowed myself to truly grieve. The only time I let the pain in is during my weekly visits to the lakeshore, where we used to walk together. I go alone because I am afraid that if my family sees me fall apart, they will start whispering worries about my mental stability, predicting relapse before it happens. I know their fear is wrapped in love, but it does not help me process the hole that loss has left in my heart. I did not want to return to old patterns of coping with grief such as substance use or self-destructive behaviour, so instead, I ran again.

By the end of summer, it was time to face what I had been avoiding. My bipolar cycle had veered from my usual baseline into rapid cycling, swinging between highs and lows. By mid-September, sleep had become nearly impossible. I could not regulate my emotions. I was overspending, overworking, and overextending myself, trying to be everything to everyone: caregiver, student, daughter, granddaughter, auntie, listener, writer, and speaker.

It was time for an emergency visit to Dr. A, my psychiatrist.

I once signed up for three credit cards in a single day. When they arrived, I rushed to the mall and spent each balance in under three hours. At the time, every purchase felt like a need with purpose but it was hypomania.

Hypomania can feel seductive. It creates the illusion of power, freedom, and the “best version” of yourself. But if left unchecked, it can escalate into mania or even psychosis.

For me, hypomania often ends in manic-psychosis and hospitalization, with my care team working to bring me back to baseline. The truth is, during hypomania, I feel incredible, too incredible. My inhibitions vanish, boundaries dissolve, and everything moves at warp speed. Yet over time, I’ve learned to spot hypomanic episodes, manage symptoms, and stop them before real damage occurs.

This post shares grounded, compassionate strategies for managing hypomania with bipolar disorder and practical tools drawn from lived experience.

First Comes Awareness: Catching Hypomania Early

One of the most important skills in bipolar disorder management is recognizing hypomania symptoms early. This awareness comes from tracking your mood cycles with journals, sleep logs, or apps. Common cues include racing thoughts, decreased sleep, irritability, impulsivity, and excessive optimism.

For me, hypomania sometimes shows up as extreme fatigue rather than excess energy. My baseline is naturally high-energy, which makes early signs harder to detect. After back-to-back trips to the Caribbean and New York City, I unexpectedly crashed, sleeping for days. What looked like exhaustion was actually hypomania.

Even when you know your bipolar cycle, stress, travel, or disrupted sleep can shift how symptoms appear. That’s why reflection before, during, and after episodes is so valuable. Creating a personal “Red Zone Hypomania List”, a set of your own early warning signs that can help you and your support team recognize patterns and intervene sooner.

Grounding Practices That Gently Slow You Down

When hypomania enters your cycle, you can either ride the wave or learn to calm the waters. I used to let it sweep me away, but I’ve since discovered that grounding can slow the spiral.

Some practices that help me include:

• Sensory grounding: submerging my face in cold water, using weighted blankets, or aromatherapy.
  

• Movement and breath: gentle yoga, box breathing, belly breathing, or guided body scans.
  

• Stillness rituals: light therapy, meditation music, or intentional solitude that often leads to restorative sleep.
  

These tools may not erase hypomania, but they create space for rest and regulation.

Structuring Your Day to Reduce Overstimulation

Hypomania often thrives on overstimulation. Building predictable structure and routines can make a significant difference.

• Keep a consistent sleep schedule, even when you feel energized.

• Schedule downtime during busy events like weddings or conferences.
  

• Limit caffeine, reduce screen time, and avoid noisy environments before bed.
  

Structure, routine, and healthy habits are essential to maintaining emotional stability when managing bipolar disorder.

Knowing When and How to Reach Out

Even with the best coping strategies, there are times you need support. Having a trusted network including family, friends, peers, or professionals can be life-saving.

My father often spots pressured speech before I do. My Grama Judie, who helps manage my finances, notices when I hyper-spend. They give me space to self-correct, but step in if needed, following my crisis plan and communicating with my psychiatrist.

Over the years, I’ve built a bipolar crisis plan with questions my support team feels comfortable asking me, such as:

• “When was the last time you slept?”

• “Have you been taking your medication?”
  

These may sound invasive, but with trust, they become vital tools for early intervention.

Protecting Yourself from Hypomanic Impulses

Impulsivity is one of the most challenging parts of bipolar disorder. Protecting yourself means creating safeguards before hypomania hits.

Some strategies I use:

• Safe spending rules: delay big purchases, freeze access to credit, or hand over cards to someone I trust.

• Pause big decisions: whether about relationships, travel, or quitting a job, I place them on a 72-hour hold.
  

• Create a “pause kit”: grounding tools and notes from my baseline self.
  

• The buddy system: an accountability partner who isn’t afraid to tell me the truth.
  

These systems reduce the damage impulsivity can cause and keep me aligned with my long-term healing.

Final Thoughts: You Are Not the Choices You Make in Hypomania

Hypomanic impulses will come, but they don’t define you. Some are minor, others life-altering, yet none erase your worth. Hypomania is a symptom of bipolar disorder, not your identity.

During episodes, energy, creativity, and passion accelerate. It can feel thrilling, but also unstable. Rather than fearing hypomania, I’ve learned to treat it as a signal, an invitation to slow down, set boundaries, and lean on the practices that protect my wellness.

Guilt and shame have no place here. What matters is building awareness, showing yourself compassion, and learning to navigate the highs with wisdom and care.

To my readers: What helps you recognize when hypomania is approaching? What boundaries keep you grounded when the wave begins to rise?

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?