I thought I was over my hypomania this morning, but later in the day realized that unless I hid away in a dark, silent room, I would have to take an extra dose of my antipsychotic medicine. Anything at all triggered me and threatened to make me fly off into the wild blue yonder again. I could feel how unstable I was and how very easily I could come undone. I had talked to my psychiatrist over the phone in the meantime, and told him how seriously wrong things had gone. I told him also how concerned I was that nobody seemed to notice that anything was wrong with me, including him, and that we needed to have a serious talk about this. He is not in his office the rest of the week, so my appointment with him is not until Tuesday next week.
It's not quite right when I say nobody noticed, because there were some people who did, but their concern did not make enough of an impact on me to make a difference. When you are hypomanic, there are few people who can get through to you, but I think my psychiatrist could and I think he is the one person who should be very much tuned into to my behavior and not be taken in by it. I seem to always fool him, no matter how odd my behavior gets. I suppose I make it all look reasonable. Next week I will have to give him a lesson on how not to be taken in by me. It will be for both of our benefits. One day I am going to get into serious trouble, but I think I already have in the past and made irreparable mistakes.