Only a non-bipolar dr could expect that you'd be willing to give this up. I can FEEL the energy running through my veins like speed. I feel powerful, beautiful, god-like. I can heal the sick with the power of my thoughts. I can run and jump and teach and laugh and create. But I don't NEED to do any of it because the euphoria is enough. I try to convince myself to think of the crash, to remember that it will all end in tears, but it doesn't matter because right now I am unstoppable.
Every song is written for me and makes perfect sense. I feel the instruments in my spine and can't keep the smile off my face. I wonder if this is what religion feels like. I want to talk, to tease, to impress people with my wit, my brain. I want to flirt, to seduce. To sing, to dance. I want to share this with someone, to roll around together in it, but the fact that I can't doesn't make me sad. I CAN'T be sad. What is sadness? Surely nothing that I can feel.
This is the best drug ever, made inside my body and pouring though my vessels, into my organs, rushing like heat into my limbs.
Am I supposed to feel disappointed that the new meds designed to stop this are obviously not working? Because I'm not. That will be later, even if I can't imagine a later.
I'm Superman. I can fly.
