I was watching Stephen Fry interviews on the u'tube recently, and he and his interviewer were discussing the question (regarding mania/hypomania) of whether the purportedly 'enjoyable' effects were "worth it," eg, if you get all the "benefits" of a manic (or hypomanic) state, would you still be willing to make a metaphorical 'bargain with the devil,' receiving the 'fruits' from some of the time, and being depressed (or cyclothymic, or affected by SAD, or all of these other details that you never even imagined when you were first diagnosed with an incurable, barely treatable [if you have the serious $$ you need and are less likely to have], deadly, lifelong, life-shortening and life-taking disease).
I think that's a naive question, or perhaps a poor choice of words. If I were asked that question every single day of my life, I would have given a different answer each time. It's a subjective quality, not an objective one, for example, the value of pi. Sort of like Georgia O'Keefe (& Monet, and heck, Thomas Hardy too) would repeat an artistic treatment of a certain subject. The castle's lovely on the postcard, but wait until you see it as the heavens appear to move over it each day, how the natural surroundings appear during different points of different seasons.
If I am not at all manic or hypomanic, but depressed, I will immediately and sincerely assent that not only is it not worth it, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. When my mood is what the uninitiated (the non-diseased/disordered?) typically think of as 'normal,' that is, when I am neither thinking nor acting in a 'bipolar' fashion, the answer is no, it's not worth it and yes I seem normal and not completely and utterly disabled right now but come back later, you'll see.
If I am hypomanic, the answer is well, I have this whether I want it or not so what does it matter? It is what it is and I have to deal with it, so I'm just trying to do the best I can with what little I can. Or, if I am hypomanic, I may get overly irritated by your question; not because of the question itself per se but because of the (to my hypomanic mind) intellectual laziness that leads to proliferations of such questions. If this is the case, the following may apply: A) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, but do all I can to hold it back and keep you from knowing you pissed me off, which is kind of counterintuitive because if you have no idea what you did and how you did it (much less why), then how can you not do it next time? B) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, and let you know it, to some number of the degrees on the spectrum of explosive reaction, generally immediate and directed at myself. If this is the case, it will usually deteriorate into a 'mixed-state' (again, FOR ME, this is generally immediate), that is, very unpleasant to be around and quite negative. ) I become extremely - overly - irritated/angry with you at this point, and let you know it, in an overly detailed, sarcastic, and biting way. We've all heard the cliche lamentation of not knowing the mean snappy comeback that will finally put all the stuck-up too-rich teenagers back in their place; I'm the one person in the room who will immediately eviscerate you with a piano wire, so quickly you don't know what hit you and quickly begin to feel vulnerable, and cold. In the interest of brevity I will not litany how any of the frames of mind herein listed can continue, but instead shall return to the question at hand, 'is it worth it?'
And if I am manic, the answer is usually yes, but it's a slippery yes, like one that floated to the bottom of the sink and has to be pulled up through the film of grease at the top, an unavoidable patina. My yes would be lubricated with a tightly-held quickening of fear, because at some point, probably outside of my control, I am going to stop painting and dancing and laughing up here because I will fall down, again. I can get up to the top of the mountain and do as I please, but I do have to fall off of the summit and be utterly exposed to the prowling predator of my own depression, seemingly with no choice but surrender.
So is it worth it? I can speak only for myself, and I'm keeping my answer to myself right now.
