The book is dedicated to my ex-wife, who spent twenty-three years with me and my disorder, never knowing what it really was that made her life difficult.

    Much of what I’ve written in this book has never been told to anyone before — not my ex-wife, nor my closest friends. I decided to write this book because I wanted to document memories that kept replaying in my mind. I thought that if I put them down in order, on paper, that they would stop recycling. It worked, for the most part, and I learned a few things about myself along the way.

    The book is a collection of hypomanic and depressive episodes that make up the story of my life, as I recall it. I’ve always known something was different about me compared to other people, but could never put my finger on what it was. The book also contains some references to sex, not that I’m obsessed with it, but because it is a trigger or conduit to my mania.

    The highs I’ve experienced while writing this book were incredible. I was on top of the world, even cheerful, needed little sleep, and the words just flowed from my fingertips as I wrote.  If the high was that good, how low would I go the next week? I could almost always feel the changes coming.