This is a beautiful thread and exactly what my heart's been aching to discuss since my own manic breakdown almost two years ago. Please forgive what may seem like infantile inquisitiveness or vain ignorance because I often feel like an imposter who has been labeled bipolar, when I actually feel like saying that I (metaphorically) shed my emotional and spiritual snake skin for a brighter perspective on things. Suffice it to say, after being put on Seroquel once a night (after trying a great many other concoctions), my mania has all together vanished. This pill which tames all the paranoia and sleepless nights has also made direct communication with "God", my higher self, and bouts with the red devil himself a thing of the past. Any hypersensitivity to nature, electromagnetic fields and the emotions of others has been considerably suppressed. I was far-sighted when I was manic, finding anything to be symbolic in nature and worth a thought. Analyzing the way the leaves swayed to communicate the wondrous quality of life on earth was 1,000x more important than checking my email. I sometimes long for a return to this extreme state of mindfulness.

I could write a dissertation on my days before, during and after my hospital stay but I only wanted to underline some of your response points, Venus. We are very alike, I feel. I also think that every person possibly carries the "gene" for bipolar disorder. It's simply waiting for the right triggers. I come from a very fractured background of people with depression, not mania. A mixed episode was the very last thing anyone thought would pop up in me. To the point, I think that with the right mixture of stress, insomnia, low self-esteem (and maybe a specific moon phase, full moon in my case) things can get ugly. Your body can stop functioning "normally" and throw in the towel with a nasty chemical imbalance.

Lack of a higher purpose, to me, is a brilliant reason to have a breakdown. Have a lovely job but don't feel fulfilled? Time to straighten up and look in that very plain mirror, take a long shower in water you can't control the temperature of, and slowly recite your morning feelings to a nurse. For westerners, there's the remedy...I'd have rather taken a trip to Nepal and sat on mountainside each morning before working in an orphanage. I think our bodies strive for meaningful work and, if not meaningful, tough labor once in a while, not all that intangible jibber jabber we do on the computer.

Personally, I never felt more alive and connected to the universe than during hypomania, before and after inpatient. I was more aware of myself and my surroundings than I had ever been. It was enlightenment to me (although I don't discount the power of meditation in the slightest). I actually aspire to feel as powerfully in tune when I commit to meditation in the future. So, for those who have experienced some sort of awakening during mania, let's not be afraid to share stories. "Madness" can be a wonderful thing if you interpret it so.
-Fourth year psych major at UCSC