SLITHERING SCALY SNAKE SNORTING STRIPS OF SALT

Hypomania. Despite sounding like a more devastating version of mania, It's actually the milder form of it.

 It's the lemon and herb in the Nando's hotness scale while mania is the coveted Carolina Reaper.

It's the gentler goblin that gobbles on guavas and gizzards and guts of grizzlies. Gummy grizzlies. While mania is the massive. menacing Manticore that munches on men and their mushy, moist meat.

"I will rip your limbs one by one, and devour them voraciously in front of your family."

It's characterized by an elevated state of mood - up to the point of euphoria and hyperactivity. Your mood basically jumps on a trampoline with a pogo stick and launches itself so high up, it got it's head stuck in the Stratosphere.

You can't really tell if I'm going through hypomania at a glance. It's like an Aedes Mosquito on a chessboard keychain. I wouldn't go around and convince people that my theories on parallel dimensions are scientifically correct despite having absolutely zero knowledge in that department. But I will however, appear to be a little "giddlier". A red squiggly line below the word indicates that the word doesn't exist, but you know how some words just describe something so perfectly just by how it sounds? The word is just that. It's being giddy, but giddlier - ya feel me? Nothing I did when I was hypomanic would really raise anyone's eyebrow and make them look like a wrestler who likes to ask people whether they can catch a whiff of what he's whipping up for dinner.

"It's siakap 3 rasa"

Hypomania feels like the unlocked stage in the good ol' game of life. It's when you unknowingly unlock a secret cavern that has a shitload of treasure chests, Vitality Vials, Yggdrasil Berries and an endless amount of vases and pots that you can shatter to shards to quench your thirst for destruction. It also houses the most powerful sword in the game, lodged in a glowing, red crystal. It would unleash Hades, riding on his trusty Cerberus when swung swiftly - leaving trails of hell fire in its wake. It also has a chance to land a critical strike that deals 9999 damage.

It's life - enhanced. Your perception towards your very existence feels like it has finally worn anti-smudge glasses. We're not talking about clouds having a silver lining, we're talking about the clouds being shiny cotton balls of silver themselves.You become unnaturally confident, extra energetic and your optimism is so positively high, it would reach the Sombrero Galaxy. No, I did not make that up. I assume there are planets that sprout taco trees and have piñatas drinking from salsa streams over there.

Your spaceship of self-esteem on the other hand, would reach the Tadpole Galaxy. Yep, that exists too. There, the planets squiggle around instead of orbiting it's sun which looks like a giant flaming head of a toad.

 You feel amazing. You feel like life finally has received the parcel of purpose and is gripping firmly on the ropes of reason.

I felt so motivated and my head was always swirling with thoughts and ideas. When I draw, the ink that spewed felt more spontaneous. It almost felt like having an imagination of a kid again. So carefree, boundless and unrestrained. I was always psyched to skate and when I did skate, it felt radically incredible. I also had energy that was like a stampede of bulls that has red skin. I would wake up when the early birds are chirping cheerily on cables and skate at the badminton court next to my house. Note that I don't usually do this when I wasn't hypomanic. I would then unwind and have a smoke while sweat drip down my b-oard. Have my gaze wander loose over the morning sky and swaying trees shedding leafy tears . "Eh, that cloud formation looks like a fluffy Flapper-Whapper teaching a swarm of Blobbles how to swim" as I take another puff of my cigarette.

I was never really a confident person. There were times where I'd nervously go "so that's means" and "it's hurts" in a muffled stutter due to having social skills as efficient as an umbrella in a typhoon. Not when I was hypomanic tho. Words would just flow naturally and my spoken english was tremendously better. There were no awkward pauses and jokes that only a crowd of crickets would laugh.

The need for sleep is also dramatically reduced. I can live on only a few hours of sleep each day and not feel like a zombie sloth when I wake up. I'm pretty sure there were days where I skipped sleep for a whole day and still have my energy sparking up like a tesla coil.

I was over-appreciative towards everything. Your senses soared to the skies and slapped the seagulls by their scapulars. Sights and sounds. Taste and thoughts. I would look at drains with carpets of moss like it's an installation in an art museum. My eyes would dart around odd corners and strange sections. Songs would sing a sweeter symphony and murmur a more mesmerizing melody. Food tasted like your taste buds have scored a higher qualification in taste-ology. Your thoughts would race around like a cart in Rainbow Road in Mario Kart.

Yeah, being hypomanic feels pretty darned dandy. I don't really mind being in that state if it weren't for Sir Derpington and his darling dame, Depression, knocking on the door to complain about the noise. And instead of asking to tone it down, they called the cops and requested for me to be in a maximum security prison.

Anyway, that's pretty much what Hypomania is and how it felt like. Neat-o ay.

 Make sure that your wink doesn't look like a worrying seizure of a twitch. Til' next time. Toodly-doo doods.

POLITE PIRATE PRACTISING PERPLEXING POSES

So, what is Bipolar Disorder you may ask?

I thought I came up with something clever to say here to only have a quick Google search to reassure me that it was completely unoriginal and worthy of getting questionable objects be thrown at me relentlessly. Yeah, I was about to say a polar bear who has an interest in both gende- 

NO WAIT DON'T THROW THAT I'M SORRY

Bipolar Disorder, or Manic Depression,  is an extreme mood swing, alternating between periods of hypomania (more on this in upcoming posts) or mania (derp), or both in my case, and depression.

No wait, did I say mood swing? I meant a flippin' mood catapult. One day you're soaring through the clouds with the Peregrine Falcons and the next - you're doomed to dwell in the deepest, darkest depth of the most dreadful dumpster .

It's like riding a roller coaster in the shape of the letter M with a conductor that's about to get fired for not reminding the riders to buckle up. He also spilled his coffee on the machinery that controls the speed causing the gears and gizmos to celebrate 4th of July. Man, he's gonna get fired so hard that he might just spontaneously combust. 

Apparently, there's no cure for it and you're pretty much stuck with it your whole life. It's not exactly the greatest feeling to know what you're having, doesn't have the pills to purge away the pain in the pooper nor the vaccine to vanquish the vile, vicious virus. But aw welparooni - I guess I'll live.

 May the uncertain promise of tomorrow bring this frown to town and make sure it has a good time. 

What is life without a few pulsating zits on its nose. They may pop up randomly without warning and ruin your day but hey - they'll be gone with time. Or maybe, I don't know, evolve into giant blobs of pus and blood. Even then, those will be gone eventually too. Maybe a scar would form but don't let that scar-e you. Put on a smile, act like you're okay and win an O-scar. The puns are running scar-ce so I guess I better scar-am (scram) like I'm a Na-scar driver and get myself some ice scar-eam.

Until then. Don't let anyone tell you that you're an avocado. Unless you like avocados and wish that people would go "Avoca-damn guuurll~" when they see you.

"Holy guacamole"


Alright, I'm avoca-done.

MENACING MICE MADE A MASSIVE MAZE

Derp

Derpity Derp McDerpDave

Since I'll be using this word for a considerable amount of time, let me just loosely put a meaning to it,

Derp is the term for when I was in a state of psychosis.

Psychosis is pretty much what the name suggests, being psychotic. From being mildly misaligned with your state of being to going completely batshit insane. I'm not talking about front-flipping-blindfolded-over-a-burning-bed-of-nails-3edgy5me insane, I'm talking about being worthy of a straitjacket insane.

A lot of people are surprised at how I'm still able to recall what happened when I was derping. I am too. I think it's because I was somewhat conscious of what I was doing and the judgments were my own. Only that, the things I did were only deemed normal by my own badly distorted perception of reality. To others, well, I looked like a bag of pistachios (get it? 'cause I was nuts lel). Like, if someone tried to convince me that pigs do fly - I would've completely bought that and proceed to explain how they exist in a distant dimension. Heck, I would have even thought that seahorses neigh and dragons knit sweaters.

And that's only the tip of the iceberg of insanity. Some of the scenarios could've baked a bouquet of purple steaks diagonally on a math theory on how bicycles inflate. Yep, the things I did made as much sense as the last sentence. 

Even worse when the delusions, the dandy and the destructive, were translated into actions. Some made people nervously laugh and question whether I'm being serious about thinking Hogwarts is real and I'm a wizard from Hufflepuff (protip: I was), some could've brought serious harm to myself and the people around me.

I am thankful, as I'm writing this, I'm considered sane. Sure. some people would tell me I'm

a little peculiar at times but only to an extent of receiving a stink-eye or a confused smirk. Nothing of serious concern. 

I just hope that Randy the Relapse Rodent won't crawl out of it's dusty little doorway and give me a gut-gushing gnaw that'll leave gnarly, gory gashes ever again. Basically, I wanna stay sane from now on end. Amin

So, that's pretty much what derp is. I'll elaborate more on what actually went down in future writings. 

Take care now. Don't let anyone tell you that your choice of bread spread is inferior.

INITIAL INTRO INTO THIS INTRICATE ILLUSION

So,

I have Bipolar Disorder Type 1

Or Manic Depression. Or the Jekyll and Hyde. Or the Severe Sanity Swing. Or the Gregory Schwartznitz Syndrome. I have no idea who the hell the last guy is and I totally made that up. But that Gregory guy sounds like a sophisticated old man with groomed, snow white hair who has an unhealthy obsession for lawn gnomes and ancient poetry that has thou, thee, shalt, thine, maketh in em'. He wears a monocle to his weekly chess matches at the local park too.

I think I've been a bipolarian (made that up, sounds pretty nifty ay?) for about 5-6 years now. It's been a surreal spiral of the utmost ups and the deepest downs. A roller coaster that someone with a burning desire to see planet Earth implode on itself created on Rollercoaster Tycoon.

It was life-changing.

It was like wearing clean socks all your life, and suddenly stepping into a muddy puddle.

In this blog, I will try to recall and recollect all my past experiences, be it unsettling or uplifting, From my psychotic episodes to the meds I've been on, the shitty side effects to my recoveries and relapses and all that neat stuff . And maybe even a few stories on Gregory Shwartnitz.

So I'll see ya later I guess.