When I'm manic I don't get giddy, but I will find myself doing things I will regret later, like a shopping spree, or giving money to friends if they need help (that they never pay back). Then I become rageful. People must wonder if there is someone else who lives here because I'm sure they can hear me yelling. It becomes all consuming, and I make it worse by isolating myself so that I'm not affecting others. Yet I need to talk it out. When I finally crash I am out for days, unable to get out of bed. It's an endless cycle between rage and deep sadness/emptiness. When I finally come out of it I am just ditsy and confused, disoriented, you name it. There never seems to be a time when I can just feel peaceful.