Maybe he means lite in terms of how long the periods last; but maybe he means lite in terms of how high the high, and how low the lows. A typical manic episode for me is at least 4 or 5 days--usually more like two weeks, and is so disruptive that at least one area of my life tanks: like, if I had a book report due as a kid, I got so excited about it that I read every book by the author that the library had (Henry James) and didn't sleep for more than one to two hours at a time for AND couldn't read my own writing. It didn't even look like my hand. I yelled at everyone over anything they did to distract me--like eating loudly enough that I could hear them....

My first med was thorazine....back in the old days....

When I was younger, I had episodes almost every three years to the month. After grad school and starting working, they were fewer upheavals. That helped a lot. The more schedule and routine AND freedom I can build into my life, the safer I am. Menopause really messed me up again. Still rebuilding from it, but I lost a lot then--career, friends, community support, a therapist--who decided he was unqualified.

I hope you laugh at this: (it is so crazy) Keep in mind that the bpd was happening right along side my adventures over the Himalayas of bi-polar! Love/hate, binges, cutting, not finishing one book before I picked up the other, remembering that I hadn't finished the first one, going back to it--rage if I couldn't find it...

So. My bipolar is incredible energy followed by such deep depressioin that I can't--really, really can't-- read more than three words in a row and have them make sense.

Now, though, I have a great psychiatrist--so good he even called it when I had a major vitamin D deficiency (level of 16), blew my GP away. And I have a therapist, a PsyD, who is tough and good. We've worked really, really hard, and my bpd is so much better. I'm a good mom now. I'm sure of it. This has come to mean everything to me...Five years ago, when my kids were 6 and 10, I didn't even know if they'd brushed their hair, and they were afraid of me. Now, we always kiss each other good night, I make them breakfast almost every morning--I mean MAKE it, not just cereal. I still have a lot of trouble remembering to do laundry...I let the dishes pile up, can't seem to keep from piling things up all over instead of putting them away, think about doing housework for days--and then do either a blitz that leaves me exhausted for at least a day, or do 10-30 minutes of cleaning in just one place, so that at least there is one place to rest my eyes that isn't chaos. But my kids are happy and proud of themselves. It's fairly amazing. I have to go bawl now...I am so grateful.