For years now, I've been hiding, worrying about, and even outright denying what is happening. I keep telling myself it's all in my head, and I've even convinced myself of it. In the past, I've been more sure of it than anything else in my life. Just as I seem to climb out of that pit and stand on my feet again, something will eventually hit me like a bus and rock the very core of my being. My mood. I'll sit in class perfectly content with myself and life, but for no reason, I sometimes get overwhelmed with the most awful sense of dread and hopelessness imaginable. At best, I won't be planning to commit suicide, at worst, I start making preparations. If I'm lucky, those thoughts leave me by the time I leave school, if not, they absolutely consume me anywhere from days to months. There is no reason to feel that way, I just do. Then there's the other side of the coin. Something that's only come to surface recently. Depression has been a problem for me since age 11, but now, I get these very short periods of euphoria and hyperactivity. Ultra rapid hypomania. Everyone I've seen keeps calling it anxiety, but I know what anxiety is, and they're certainly causing me anxiety, but you explain to me how having the best feeling in the world, a high so intense that I literally become a wet noodle in ecstasy, and only need to sleep 2-5 hours a day for weeks at a time, is even remotely normal or caused by just anxiety. I went to the ER when I started experiencing 2-3 mood shifts a day---crying to the point of convulsing, then flying out of bed at midnight to make hot dogs and do chores. I spoke to someone from emergency psych services for 20 minutes, was told it was anxiety and sent home. She asked me if I go on shopping sprees. I said no. I guess that was all the proof she needed. It kept getting worse. I went to urgency care before the ER for the insomnia, and almost complete lack of appetite. They gave me Ativan and risperdol. After the ER visit, I started taking 10x the daily dose of ativan prescribed so I would be calm enough to just end it all. I wasn't even depressed at the time; I was excited to die and finally be free. I took a razor (won't go into detail) and made a very deep cut. Not only did it not hurt, but to this day I don't even remember doing it. It was all a blur. I realized that I had failed to cut in the right spot, but made a second plan. The next day, I saw my psychiatrist and was involuntarily admitted to an inpatient psych ward for 8 days. I was made somewhat stable, just in the sense that I no longer wanted to die (and still don't). After that, my psych labeled me with mood disorder NOS. So here I am now. For the past few days, I've felt a sense of clarity and inner peace; pure acceptance of the way I am and that it's not healthy to worry about something I have no control over. For all of the times I've had like this, the self pity stops, the obsessive thinking and worrying goes away, and I just feel like living my life. Like being normal. It never lasts though. What happened yesterday is what prompted this post. I told my psych that the meds are just too hard on my body and I feel they won't help me. I felt very confident of this at the time. Later, I started feeling free, like the shackles had been unlocked. Following that, I felt that familiar sense of hopelessness. Then came the crying, but strangely, I felt absolutely amazing. Emotionally I felt like absolute trash, but physically I wanted to run a marathon. I went to bed and slept about 5 hours. Today, shortly after getting out of bed, I started feeling that same euphoric wet noodle high that's comparable to orgasm. Pure bliss, listening to music gives me goosebumps as if it's somehow touching my very soul. I'm 18 now, originally started happening at 17, but only when I took ambien. Now it happens for next to no reason, maybe lack of sleep or pain killers, but even then it's often just stress or feeling very optimistic that causes me to go into flight. So I need to know what to do. I've been trying so hard not to go to anyone and say that I think I'm bipolar. I realize how easy it is to self diagnose, so I've been purposely holding back just how intensely it's affecting me and not reporting all of the symptoms. I want an objective, fact based assessment, but I'm not getting it. I think I'm to blame. I keep denying it and saying that I'm in control. My thoughts are so conflicted. My attitude towards this whole things and how I should approach getting help changes every day. I just don't know what to do.