This is a radical departure from the days when my bipolar disorder was less well controlled. In a manic space I used to go and go and go, fearful of the inevitable crash. Since I knew there were times when I was going to be unable to work, I used to drive myself to the very exhaustion that would precipitate a depressive episode.
I still feel the desire to keep plugging away at my projects, every moment I have available. Nevertheless, I feel healthier now. More balanced. Like I can stop before I’m absolutely tapped out. Like I can stop and take care of other priorities I have in life, like attending to correspondence or paying bills.
I feel balanced. And it surprises me that this is a better feeling than being manic. [I was usually only hypomanic—I didn’t have the mania that sounds like a lot more fun but also sounds quite dangerous.] I appreciate feeling called into a work rather than being driven by [literally] madness to produce. It’s nice to be able to stop when I feel I should stop and not depend on a crash to tell me when it’s time to finish work for the day.
I hardly have words for the feeling. I think they call it equanimity.
I will call it, simply, feeling blessed.