You have what a captain friend of mine once referred to as a "problem of luxury." In my case, as a fishermen, that meant catching too many fish, without enough time or hands to keep up with production. In those instances you have to just shut down the fishing operation and process until the hoppers are cleared of fish. I will respectfully decline to make a metaphor out of this but I think I already have.

I'm trying to use my "up" time to better prepare myself for the lows. I'm finding this week that I'm cutting my ambitions down into bite-size pieces. Rome wasn't built in a day. I'm trying to be more tortoise-like and less hare-like. I always run out of gas sooner or later and then I'm screwed. This time around, I'm not going to put the pedal to the metal. I know that depression, as part of my bi-polarism is out there lurking in wait and this time around, I'm not going to give it the satisfaction. So I'm enjoying my little bites of pleasure and not getting upset about not writing the Great American Novel yet.

With regard to meds, I would only caution that, if they have been working for you, and you are contemplating doing without, have something to replace them, i.e. meditation, therapy, what have you. It sounds like you are surrounded by a lot of creative people. Are you able to really connect with them or is it more just a feature of your work as an artist? I have stopped taking meds in the past only because they ceased to be effective; had any of them worked, I would be on them still and would make sure to have a steady supply on hand.

Some famous Frenchman-maybe Flaubert-said-and I'm paraphrasing, "Be regular in your daily life so that you can be violently original in your art" or something to that effect. Try to maintain a semblance of "normalcy" in your daily routine so that your art has the space to flourish. I wish you many more days of such fulfillment.