I LOVE mania. The good kind. The kind where I feel like life has special meaning. Where I feel so enlightened that I just know I can make everyone around me better if they would just listen to me. Seeing the world sparkle and shimmer is awesome. And I was addicted for a short while. I skipped meds or used just the ad to throw me up there. And I wish I still could. Unfortunately I have learned the hard way that my mania has an ugly side and it often goes sour pretty damn quick. I'm lucky if I get a week of happy mania. Then it just devolves and spins into ugliness. I have a son who I am now the sole provider for and I cannot afford to take that risk anymore. I become an awful person when manic.

I liken it to doing street drugs. It feels amazing but comes with too high a cost.