I love the depths and breadths and heights that I can reach with my writing when I'm hypomanic.

I love the ability to feel everything so intensely and experience life in all its dimensions: the vivid colors and enticing aromas of the world, the deep spiritual connectedness to all of nature and the universe, the achingly beautiful parts of life that people without BP will never get to see.

I love my sense of humor, the ability to entertain without being self-conscious, and the joy of bringing laughter to my family, co-workers, and friends. I am quirky and erratic and smart and funny (when not depressed, that is) and I really like that about myself.

I love the freedom my diagnosis gave me to be my authentic self. No more trying to fit square pegs in round holes; no more fighting for a 'normal' existence that will never be mine anyway.