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Understanding the Aftermath of Hypomania (aka: When the Glitter Settles)

There’s something almost intoxicating about hypomania. Your brain buzzes, ideas come faster than you can write them down, and suddenly everything feels possible. You’re cleaning the garage, starting a new project, texting friends back after weeks of silence, and maybe even feeling like you’ve finally “figured it out.”

But here’s the part people don’t talk about enough: what happens after.

When the sparkle fades and your energy crashes back to earth, you’re left sorting through the emotional and physical wreckage. It’s not just exhaustion—it’s this weird cocktail of regret, confusion, and grief. You might feel raw, embarrassed, or even guilty for things you said or started and couldn’t finish. That aftermath can be brutal.

Hypomania is part of bipolar II disorder—it’s marked by elevated mood, a surge in productivity, and bursts of creativity or restlessness. But while it can feel euphoric at the time, the come-down can leave you reeling, questioning your choices, and trying to clean up the mess your over-caffeinated brain tornadoed through.

The Cycle of Risk and Regret (a.k.a. Oops, I Did It Again — But Not in a Fun Britney Way)

Here’s the thing no one glamorizes about hypomania: the aftermath of impulsive choices that seemed like brilliant ideas at the time. One minute you’re ordering $200 worth of “self-improvement” stuff at 2 a.m., signing up for a new certification course, and texting your ex like you’re starring in your own comeback tour — and the next, you’re wondering what the hell just happened.

And science backs it up. According to research published on PubMed, people in hypomanic states often engage in high-risk behaviors — overspending, substance use, reckless decisions — the kind of things that feel like you’re chasing possibility, but too often watching it all boomerang back with the grace of a collapsing Jenga tower.

What follows? That slow, sinking feeling. Guilt. Shame. Maybe even avoidance. You look at the credit card bill, or a strained relationship, and suddenly the vibrant energy of hypomania gets replaced with the emotional hangover no one warned you about.

You’re not the only one who’s been caught in this loop. You’re not a bad person. You’re a person with a disorder that messes with impulse and inhibition. It doesn’t excuse the consequences, but it does explain the pattern — and understanding the pattern is how we start breaking it. I was so stuck here myself but perhaps worse is the gaslighting I do over EVERY. SINGLE. DECISION. afterwards because I sincerely have lost all faith in my own judgment. Like every little thing, ‘is it a good idea or are you just manic’ plays in my head on a loop.

The Crash Landing No One Talks About

If hypomania feels like flying a little too close to the sun, then the crash that follows is more than just a rough landing — it’s a total freefall. One minute, you’re bursting with ideas and energy, barely sleeping, maybe even reorganizing the garage at 2 a.m. like you’re possessed by the spirit of Marie Kondo on espresso. And then… it’s like the lights shut off. The energy vanishes. You’re not just tired — you’re hollowed out. The sadness is deep, the fatigue bone-heavy, and everything starts to feel like too much and not enough, all at once.

It’s not just a “mood swing.” It’s a full-body, full-mind shutdown that makes even brushing your teeth feel like a high-stakes negotiation. And the cruelest part? The contrast. You remember how you felt just days ago, and now you can’t fathom getting off the couch. That whiplash is its own kind of heartbreak. Like it physically makes me ache sometimes.

When Life Throws a Brick Through the Window

Here’s the thing: if you’re already dancing on the edge of a depressive episode, real-life chaos doesn’t just nudge you — it can send you tumbling. Research backs this up: negative life events (you know, the kinds that seem to show up all at once like uninvited guests) have been shown to intensify depressive symptoms in folks with bipolar disorder [PMC, Cleveland Clinic]. And if you’re someone already wired with a predisposition

to depression? That impact hits even harder. It’s why managing stress isn’t just a suggestion — it’s survival. I will legit cry over such trivial stuff, then hate myself cuz I KNOW its dumb to cry about it so I cry more cuz I’m mad at myself for not being able to look at a situation thats got nothing to do with me or so so trivial Learning how to soften life’s blows, build resilience, and stack the odds in your favor might not make the hard stuff disappear, but it can definitely make it hurt less when it lands.

Moving Forward: Strategies for Coping (AKA, Surviving the Crash Without Losing Your Damn Mind)

Look, managing life after hypomania is like waking up in a house you swore you just deep cleaned, only to find emotional dishes stacked in every room. But there are ways to climb out of the mess — even if you’re doing it one spoon at a time.

🔹 Self-Compassion
This is not a personal failure, a moral shortcoming, or some character flaw you need to apologize for. It’s a medical condition — full stop. Remind yourself (repeatedly, if needed) that what you’re feeling isn’t your fault. You’re not broken, you’re human. In a world that crops all the edges to paint a rosier picture be the straight angle in black and white.

🔹 Structured Support
When your brain feels like a Pinterest board of chaos, routines can become lifelines. Simple, repeatable actions — morning check-ins, meal planning, a therapy appointment every other Tuesday — can help stabilize the rollercoaster. And yes, professional help is allowed and encouraged (therapy = tools, not weakness). Every morning my routine has been the same for years, Duolingo while I listen to stand up comedy with the news in the background, if any of those is missing my day starts out lacking which leads to a bad day

🔹 Community Connection
Even if you’re more “socially exhausted introvert” than “group hug enthusiast,” connecting with people who get it can make a huge difference. Whether it’s an online forum, a group chat, or that one friend who won’t judge your 2 a.m. existential texts — don’t go it alone. Thats what I’m trying to do here, build a community, hopefully to work right on up to a forum we can all support each other. Thats my goal anyway the minute I can sell enough in my store to pay to host the forum it will be done!


Understanding the highs and lows — especially the rough emotional terrain that can follow hypomania — isn’t just helpful, it’s empowering. When you mix solid science with self-awareness and some well-worn coping tools, you start to feel just a little more in control. Not perfect, not invincible — but stronger. And that counts. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.
P.S. If this hit a little close to home and you’re looking for something to help you process the messy in-between parts — I made a workbook just for this. It’s not magic, but it’s honest, helpful, and created by someone who’s been there. Check it out

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When the Doctor’s Office Becomes a Battlefield: Understanding Medical PTSD

 Ok gang, let’s get real about something that doesn’t get nearly enough attention: medical PTSD. If you’ve ever left a doctor’s office feeling dismissed, doubted, or downright defeated, you’re not alone. For those of us with chronic illnesses and invisible conditions like fibromyalgia, bipolar disorder, autism, or ADHD, the healthcare system can feel less like a safety net and more like a minefield.

What Is Medical PTSD?

Medical PTSD is what happens when repeated negative experiences with healthcare providers leave you emotionally scarred. It’s not just about a bad appointment here or there—it’s about the trauma that builds up over time when your pain or symptoms are brushed off as “nothing” or “all in your head.” Spoiler alert: it’s not in your head.
For many of us with invisible illnesses, this is an all-too-familiar story. Bloodwork comes back fine? Must be nothing. Physical exam looks normal? You’re probably exaggerating. And suddenly, you’re left questioning your own reality because someone with a stethoscope couldn’t see what you’re feeling every single day. The number of times I’ve left a doctors appointment shaking my head saying ‘well, I mean if it WAS something wouldn’t they see it?’ No, thats not true, some stuff is tricky and it hides behind stuff. Some times you have to poke around at stuff until you figure it out, that doesnt mean things arent there to find.

Truth Bomb: Invisible Doesn’t Mean Imaginary

Here’s the thing: just because something doesn’t show up on a test doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Fibromyalgia doesn’t light up on an X-ray. Bipolar disorder doesn’t leave a trail in your bloodwork. Autism and ADHD don’t come with flashing neon signs saying, “Hey, I’m here!” But that doesn’t make them any less valid—or any less debilitating.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked into an appointment armed with symptom logs, research, and sheer determination, only to be met with raised eyebrows and the dreaded “It’s probably just stress.” Or, ‘well you DO have Fibro’ Oh really? Because last time I checked, Fibromyalgia didn’t cause my hip to stage a full-blown mutiny (looking at you, early retirement hip).

The Emotional Toll of Being Dismissed

Let me paint you a picture: You’re already dealing with chronic pain, fatigue, mood swings—basically the greatest hits of invisible illness. Then you muster up the courage to seek help (because let’s be honest, even making the appointment feels like climbing Everest). You sit there, vulnerable and hopeful, only to be told your symptoms don’t add up or aren’t serious enough to warrant concern.

That kind of dismissal doesn’t just sting—it leaves scars. Over time, it can make you hesitant to seek care at all. Why bother if no one’s going to listen? But here’s the kicker: avoiding care can lead to worsening symptoms and even more complex health issues down the line. It’s a vicious cycle that needs to stop.

Breaking the Cycle: Advocacy and Awareness

So how do we fix this mess? For starters:

Trust Your Gut: If something feels wrong in your body, it probably is. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

Document Everything: Keep a symptom diary so you have concrete evidence to back up your concerns.

Bring Backup: Take a trusted friend or family member to appointments—they can help advocate for you when you’re feeling overwhelmed.

Seek Second Opinions: If one doctor dismisses you, find another who will listen. Your health is worth fighting for. Though check with your doctors office or hospital system on policies, my doctor of 7 years dropped me because I got one.

And let’s not forget the role of healthcare providers in this equation. Doctors need better training on invisible illnesses—period. They need to understand that just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. A little empathy goes a long way.

My Own Battle Scars

I’ve got plenty of stories I could share about being dismissed by doctors (and believe me, I will). Like the time I was told my fibro pain was just “overexertion” when I hadn’t done more than shuffle from my bed to the couch all week.
Or when my bipolar symptoms were brushed off as “just moodiness” because I happened to be having a good day during my appointment. Yes its about highs and lows but there is so much nuance and theres no way to catalogue each patient’s symptoms into a graph saying which predominant symptom is worse from day to given day, I don’t even know a metric you could rate them on, its just too much.
But perhaps the most frustrating moment was when my hip—yes, my actual joint—was screaming for help, and I was told ‘Well, fibro is painful.’ said sincerely with a hand on my shoulder (do not touch a fibro sufferer there and expect to be conveying sympathy or empathy, its like my BIGGEST tender point, which I never mentioned SPECIFICALLY so I let it go, but you wouldnt do that)
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t just fibro; it was my hip waving its white flag and demanding replacement parts.

The Bottom Line

Medical PTSD is real, and it’s time we start talking about it. For those of us living with chronic conditions and invisible illnesses, advocating for ourselves isn’t just an option—it’s a necessity. So keep pushing for answers, keep telling your story, and never let anyone make you feel like your pain isn’t valid.Because at the end of the day? We know our bodies better than anyone else ever could. And who can tell your story and explain your pain better than you? Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!