After hospitalization I returned home mania-free.

I’ve been in thrall of some degree of mania for at least 18 months. I loved it even though it was harmful: We enjoy the flirting with danger, don’t we? I do. I did.

Others here have written of enjoying the high, I think? And I’m not depressed, exactly. But I do feel as if I’m mourning the loss of the best part of myself.

Numb. Do you know that feeling? I spent $3,000 on shirts, $1,000 on shorts, and $4,500 on new hats as motivational clothing to go outside. This was before I was hospitalized. I’m back to being in bed 23 ½ hours a day... back to blood pressure drops, fainting, and cracking my skull again. I have to spend some vertical time off my back.

Last week my 8-year-old shower bench broke after years of stress that popped two screws. My new bench arrived today — all points of stress are welded; it seems so much safer. I need to wash the blood out of my hair lest someone mistake me for Santa Claus with the white of my hair and the red of my blood.