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How does mania affect one's sexual life?

Part of living with bipolar disorder is the threat of mania or hypomania. One may become hyperfocused and engage in useless behaviors such as spending sprees, or perhaps one becomes paranoid and hypervigilant, losing precious sleep over imagined wrongs. One of the most damaging aspects of a manic episode is hypersexuality, where one sleeps around and seeks ever-increasing sexual stimulation. Eschewing any sort of protection such as condoms, there is the risk of STDs such as HIV, which could be a death sentence. Or you could get someone pregnant, and initiate a cascade of expenses and guilt.  Left untreated, bipolar disorder can destroy a person and damage those around them. Perhaps ironic is that the medications used to treat bipolar disorder, such as antidepressants and antipsychotics, put a dent in one's sexual drive, which is a problem in itself, except that with treatment, one is likely to engage less in risky sexual activity. I've read of sexual predators who, after taking...
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Is routine a good thing?

I have a routine of teaching and grading assignments, but I also walk my dog, Stella, every day at the River Park in Chattanooga. The River Park follows the edge of the Tennessee River for eight miles. Every day around noon, I ask Stella if she wants to go for a walk, and she emphatically answers, Yes. We walk for about a mile and a half, an out-and-back along the paved trail. We're both a bit old and walk slowly, especially in the heat. I see new faces each day, but I also see regulars, and we nod or wave. My biggest fear is that Stella will poop on the trail, so I first walk her in a large field where she dutifully evacuates her bowels. To me, it's astounding that I do the same things on a daily basis and that I enjoy them. My life growing up was chaotic, my father being in the Army. We moved on average every six months or so until I was in the ninth grade. It always happened that we moved over the holiday break in December, and I had to change schools, which I came to loathe...
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Am I a sad person?

I constantly worry if I am worthy of breathing or of venturing to the grocery store. I worry that I will be fired from my job. I worry that the stories I write (for that is what I am, a writer) are too dangerous and depressing. I worry that I can't be more financially supportive of my two beautiful daughters. I worry that my cats and dog get bored.  My writing is where I stretch my imagination and explore the terrible worries. I have been writing stories and novels for some forty years, with a ten-year stretch of poetry in the middle. Without writing, I would fail to understand the choices I have made that have led me to sitting on the porch writing this blog. I have to remind myself that I have fought tooth and nail to be where I am today. Although I worry, I have been the happiest for the past ten years or so, which correlates with how long I have been religious about taking medications that soothe the chemicals in my brain. To be up front, I live with bipolar affective disorder ...
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