Hypomania and Sleep

A man at my bipolar/depression support group, who has “unipolar” depression and never experiences mania, was surprised to hear a group member express deep concern by the lack of need to sleep. This man, who had never experienced mania, couldn’t imagine the brain overriding what seems like an inherent, biological need for sleep.

You would think that lack of sleep would always lead to exhaustion. You might rise to the occasion and deal with a crisis by great effort, but eventually you’d collapse as sleep deprivation took its toll.

For 10 weeks of the summer of 1995 I was energized as I drove our six children, ages four to fourteen, 15,900 miles, to the 48 contiguous states and into Mexico and Canada. I was wise enough to go to bed by 11 p.m., but during the day I went full throttle: taking care of six kids, sightseeing, and driving at least 300 miles most days. By the end of the summer, I had accomplished my goal.

After our return, as the fall progressed, sleep became more and more optional. In hypomania, some people survive, even thrive, on no sleep for days. That fall, I only needed 4 hours a night.

I once told my therapist, David Battit, that I was always grateful that I did the trip before being diagnosed with manic depression (my preferred term for 'bipolar'). I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do it, after learning about mania and sleep triggers. He looked at me sharply and I suddenly realized for the first time, and then admitted, “It’s good I didn’t go manic on the road. All those kids, so far from home.”

I didn’t play the scenario through during that conversation, but now, 13 years later, with more experience of my own, and a knowledge other people’s bipolar stories, I realize that it could have been more awful than I could imagine back in 2004. My behavior could have become so erratic that someone would have called the police. I could have been incarcerated or at least forcibly put in a locked psych unit. What would they have done with the kids? Put them in emergency foster care or police custody until Jim could arrive?

And I would have been devastated afterwards. To have put my kids in danger. To have been totally undependable and unreliable.

Hypomania is a temptation I live with. When I’m having a personal pity party, I complain: Jim can have a great day of high energy and peak experiences with creative flow. When he jumps out of bed before his alarm goes off, he doesn’t immediately think, “Did I miss a dose of my psych meds?” But every time I have a peak experience day, I have to check in with myself: did I take my meds?

Most days it doesn’t bother me, and as I’ve learned to live with the drugs that tamp down my elevated moods, I find that I can still experience energy and creativity, and be productive. Pysch meds aren’t perfect: side effects range from annoying to debilitating; some cause long-term health problems, raising the risk of developing diabetes or kidney disease. But, for me, they’re the best thing I’ve got in my anti-mania toolbox right now. If there weren’t any psych meds, I probably couldn’t have successfully raised my kids; I probably would have spent many months or years in mental hospitals. They’re not perfect, but for me, for now, they are better than the alternative.