Hypomaina sucks.

 I have not slept well this week. Last night I didn't sleep at all. As a result, I am hypomanic. I don't trust this 'good' feeling. I do dumb things when I am in this state and feel like I am fantastic as I do them. Example, one of my hypomanic episodes included a cleaning binge in the project room. I put all of my magazines into one file box and attempted to set it on the floor. While it was a somewhat controlled descent, it basically fell because the box was somewhere around 50 lbs. This stupid act is why I have a hernia and can't lift anything heavier than two gallons of milk. All the positive endorphins running around in my system buffered my senses from the initial pain of the hernia and I felt 'a little sore'. 

By the time I realized something was wrong, it was a few days later when I was no longer hypomanic and I couldn't figure out why when I moved a certain way a lump would stick out of my abdomen. Like an idiot, I poked at it, pushed it, and prodded it into creating another, larger, hernia. As this opened up, I felt a burning sensation. Being ignorant about how to manage what I had done to myself, I let this sit until my next diabetes follow up (months later). As a result, the second hernia was bigger and wider by the time I saw my doctor. Apparently this is a good thing because it's the small ones that get trapped and need surgical intervention.

But, hypomania and ignorance is why my sex life is dead, I can't do my back therapy exercises, bend over, or pick crap up off the floor with out squatting down (and even that is a bit risky). Beloved, bless that man, isn't angry with me for the long term impact of this on our relationship. Hell, the timing was pretty close to when the vaginal symptoms of perimenopause hit. Fortunately, we have a long time that we were working around problems like this due to trauma instead of physical injury. So, we know how to keep the fire in our marriage even if we can't get it on.

A part of my brain says I should info dump about how we coped early on in our relationship with my sexual difficulties. Another part of my brain says I should info dump about how perimenopause is treating me. And then there's the third part that is insisting I should go to the library and return a book. As is there the urge to start cleaning all the things, clip all the dead leaves off my plants, and throw this restless energy into meal prep for next week. Generally, do everything all at once and throw a few more items on the pile just for laughs.

No hard feelings or depression right now. I'm somewhere around bubbly and silly, but I have some control over it. In case you can't tell, I am very verbal at the moment and thoughts are racing. I can't type as fast as the ideas hit me. It is exasperating. My attention span isn't too great. I'm currently disorganized as hell. But my brain is feeling more wound up than it was last night. Thoughts are racing faster. I'm practically vibrating with energy. And all I have been drinking is water.