To begin my series of articles on bipolar disorder episodes, I thought about presenting them to you in chronological order, reflecting their cycle. Hypomania is the first euphoric (or irritable) phase of this condition. It sometimes progresses either into mania (in bipolar disorder type I) or into depression. Hypomania — which can manifest in two drastically different ways — is what we’ll focus on in this article. I’ve experienced a large number of hypomanic episodes that turned me into a production machine, a walking factory.
📋 TL;DR : Hypomania in short
- 🌗 Euphoric or irritable phase of bipolar disorder, lasting ≥ 4 days.
- 😴 Less sleep but more energy (sometimes to the point of feeling invincible).
- 🎨 Surge of creativity and productivity, often addictive.
- ⚠️ Irritability, impulsivity, and high-risk behaviors.
- 🎢 Always followed by a depressive crash → that’s the price of hypomania.
- 🧩 In my case, autism amplifies my rituals, my stims, and my sensory perceptions.
When we talk about episodes, it’s because they must be long enough to qualify as such. The DSM-5 — the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, widely used worldwide in psychiatry — defines the duration and criteria required for these episodes.
Definition of a hypomanic episode
A hypomanic episode lasts at least 4 days. It is characterized by either an elevated and expansive mood (more simply, euphoric) or an irritable one. This second possibility is something many people don’t expect, and it creates a drastically different lived experience compared to a euphoric episode. The person is either “happy and cheerful” all the time, or “highly irritable” all the time.
Many personal accounts describe the irritable version as a real nightmare, whereas the euphoric version is often sought after — sometimes even addictive. The irritability can be so intense that the slightest frustration may trigger a sharp, explosive anger in the affected person. Even the slightest frustration — or the perception of one.
Diagnostic criteria
When we talk about impaired judgment during euphoric episodes, it means the person has a harder time evaluating their own actions and what’s happening around them. Impaired judgment + a triggering situation = inevitable explosion. This altered judgment is commonly observed in (hypo)manic episodes, although it is not an official diagnostic criterion. Rather than paraphrasing them, here is the complete list taken from the DSM-5:
- Inflated self-esteem or grandiosity
- Decreased need for sleep
- More talkative than usual
- Flight of ideas or racing thoughts
- Distractibility
- Increase in goal-directed activity or psychomotor agitation
- Excessive involvement in risky activities (e.g., impulsive spending, unreasonable investments)
A patient must tick at least 7 of these boxes to validate a hypomanic episode (all of them if the mood is primarily irritable). Hypomanic episodes can occur in people with bipolar disorder type II but also type I (who also experience mania). The criteria for mania are the same, but fewer are required for diagnosis.
The difference between mania and hypomania is that mania requires urgent intervention, often including hospitalization, and can progress into psychosis. Hypomania, while less destructive, is still disabling — and its ultra-productive aspect can be misleading. The key distinction is that hypomania does not fully disrupt social, professional, or academic functioning.
The most striking criteria
Sleeping: a need for mortals
I use this expression because, during my episodes, I often perceived other people’s need to sleep as unnecessary and annoying. What usually stands out the most — and differs drastically from the person’s usual behaviour when stable — is the reduced need for sleep. They sleep less and do not feel deprived. Someone who normally sleeps 8 hours may suddenly function on 4 or 5 hours and appear more energetic than ever. They may also technically need sleep but simply not feel the desire, often because they’re too absorbed in projects they dive into completely.
To illustrate this symptom, I often explain it as: “the less I sleep, the more excited and energized I become.” The first part is common: many people, even without bipolar disorder, notice they feel wired or overstimulated when extremely sleep-deprived. But the second part — lack of sleep = more energy — is a classic hallmark of the hypomanic phase.
Loss of insight
Many personal accounts describe hypomania as creating a feeling of invincibility — as if nothing could touch you, and as if it would never end. This goes hand in hand with the difficulty of stepping back and assessing your own state. This is called loss of insight. The person becomes unable to recognize that they are ill and often refuses outside help.
In hypomania — especially when someone is already diagnosed and being followed medically — it can still be possible to notice that their behavior differs from their usual self. This is another key difference from mania, during which insight can be completely lost.
Productivity and creativity
Hypomania often comes with excessive productivity and creativity, sometimes a full-on explosion. When channeled properly, it can lead to highly developed and tangible projects. Yet it can also be misleading. Because a hypomanic person is often extremely distractible, they may start countless projects and never finish them.
It’s not surprising to see someone in hypomania start writing a book, then suddenly begin cleaning in the middle of a sentence, at 3 a.m., stop doing the dishes, build a website, and then switch back and forth between all of it.
This surge of productivity and creativity is strongly linked to the constant flow of thoughts racing through the mind of the hypomanic person. They feel like their thoughts are shooting forward at high speed — what we call flight of ideas, as described by Healthline. It feels as if brilliant ideas never stop pouring in. In some cases — mine included when those ideas involve my specific interests — this leads to extreme productivity, and projects may be completed at a pace that looks astonishing from the outside.
This is one of the reasons hypomania can feel so addictive to many patients: who wouldn’t dream of optimizing their day, sleeping very little, and remaining intensely productive and creative? Yet hypomania also comes with significant downsides.
The other side of the coin
As mentioned earlier, hypomania also involves an increase in irritability. The hypomanic person becomes hypersensitive and more prone to anger outbursts — though generally less severe than those seen in full manic episodes.
Hypomania also brings higher risk-taking and stronger impulsivity. Impulsive spending, reckless driving, risky sexual behaviors, increased use of substances, all of these are commonly associated with hypomanic episodes. While these behaviors may still appear somewhat controllable (unlike during mania, where control may be lost entirely), they can still lead to serious consequences for the person experiencing them. So hypomania is not simply a desirable or advantageous state — but a real condition that needs support and management, just like the depression that almost always follows.
This is the main consequence psychiatrists try to prevent by stabilizing the patient before the fall. When the brain runs out of neurotransmitters, it has only one outcome: the crash, often a brutal one, into depression. In many cases, treating hypomania is not enough to stabilize or prevent the depressive episode. For many bipolar people, it feels almost inevitable.
It’s important to remember that every person is different, and hypomania manifests uniquely from one individual to another. Things become even more complex when autism is part of the picture.
Autism and hypomania
When autism intersects with hypomania (a phenomenon documented by AutismSpeak), symptoms can become even more varied. For some, autistic traits intensify; for others, they may lessen or completely mask hypomanic symptoms. This is especially true in cases where autism hasn’t been diagnosed — as was the case for me. To avoid broad generalizations, I’ll share a few personal specifics (before expanding on them in a future article).
The first thing that stands out is the amplification of my autistic traits. I engage in my rituals and routines flawlessly and feel like I’m simply becoming “more myself.” I become far more rigid and even develop new rituals. I also stim much more, because I need to regulate emotions that suddenly feel amplified across the board.
And most of all: my sensory sensitivities skyrocket. I hear more, see more, smell more, and eating feels like an explosion of flavors. Seeing more is what resonates most strongly for me: lights become dazzling, and it feels like I’m seeing the world with sharper contrast and depth.
For a psychiatrist, all of this can look like autism, which means it’s easy to overlook the fact that what’s actually happening is a hypomanic episode. The issue in my case is that this episode carries a high risk of progressing into a manic episode — which presents very differently.
Triggers
Sleep deprivation
I mentioned reduced need for sleep as a key symptom for identifying a hypomanic episode, but it’s also one of the main triggers. The chain reaction can be illustrated simply:
Sleep deprivation → hypomania/mania → reduced need for sleep → amplification of the episode.
People often recommend that bipolar individuals make space for rest during an episode — and loved ones are encouraged to help maintain an environment where calm and sleep are possible. The challenge is that the person usually doesn’t want to rest. Why stop when you feel as powerful as hypomania convinces you you are?
Stopping medication
For someone who is normally stable, the biggest trigger is suddenly stopping treatment. In my case, early warning signs usually appear before the hypomanic shift — and stopping medication follows shortly after. However, I’ve also quit my treatment abruptly and triggered hypomanic episodes (some of which escalated into full mania) for a variety of reasons commonly found in bipolar narratives:
- Endless depression where the only perceived “exit” is a euphoric episode
- Missing the highs while stable because life feels flat (especially early in treatment, after many euphoric phases)
- Feeling convinced the medication will never work
- Unbearable side effects
- Already being hypomanic/manic and wanting to intensify the episode
I’ve experienced all of these, but the last one is the most consistent trigger at the beginning of an episode. I’ve been criticized many times for stopping treatment — until people realized my insight was already too impaired to understand the consequences.
Hormonal changes can also be triggers, as can intense or repeated stress, or acute events the person cannot emotionally process (conflict, breakup, trauma). Another factor — one I experienced recently — is diving too intensely into personal projects, especially creative ones.
My most recent hypomania — personal account
This summer, I decided to write a book (currently being proofread) about my functioning and my journey. Within a few days, I had written dozens of pages. I could not stop. The more I wrote, the more creative, fast, and productive I became. This triggered the start of a hypomanic episode. I became incredibly productive and creative — metaphors and stylistic ideas flowed effortlessly, chapters almost wrote themselves.
I would go to bed very late, only to wake up in the middle of the night because another “brilliant idea” struck and I hadto write it down immediately. The episode went unnoticed because not all symptoms were present yet, or because they were masked by my autism. One week later, the shift into mania was inevitable (something I’ll discuss in the next article).
This is the dilemma imposed on bipolar people: engage in activities to stay motivated and functional — but be careful not to enjoy them too much, because that enjoyment may trigger an episode. Horrible. I now have to stay on alert with every single action I take (I even have to set limits on how much time I allow myself to spend writing articles).
My safeguards
To prevent hypomanic episodes, I’ve put several strategies in place — some more effective than others. I use a mood-tracking app (eMoods, App Store, Google Play) where I record, every morning, my hours of sleep (tracked by my smartwatch), and every evening my levels of euphoria, depression, irritability, anxiety, and other customizable indicators: alcohol consumption, autistic meltdowns, psychotic symptoms. The system works, partially, because when I’m hypomanic, I’m unable to recognize that I’m too elevated, and therefore I rate my euphoric level as 0.
My main warning sign isn’t written anywhere: it’s noticing whether I feel the urge to stop my medication. As soon as that happens, I know I’ve entered hypomania and am close to tipping into mania. In the past, I would stop treatment without considering the consequences. Today, I have enough insight and experience to message my psychiatrist when that thought appears.
Since early 2025, I also have another tool to help me detect episodes (though I sometimes reject its conclusions): talking with ChatGPT, explaining my situation, and asking what it thinks of my state. It acts like a virtual therapist which, if configured properly, works remarkably well. It may resonate particularly with autistic and bipolar individuals because it communicates with clear and precise vocabulary. It’s an incredibly effective resource, one my psychologist has even recommended.
What should be remembered from this entire article is that hypomania is not just an overflow of happiness. It is a real episode of bipolar disorder and must be taken seriously. It can feel seductive, and it has been for me, but it always comes with a cost: depression, which haunts many of those who live with it.
📋 TL;DR : Keep in mind
- Hypomania isn’t just “being happy”: it’s a DSM-5–defined episode (≥ 4 days, euphoric or irritable mood, and at least 7 clinical criteria).
- It shows up as reduced need for sleep, increased energy, explosive creativity and productivity — but also marked irritability and risky behavior.
- The sense of invincibility and loss of insight make it difficult to recognize the episode while it’s happening.
- Hypomania may feel appealing, but it almost always leads to a depressive crash.
- For me, autism amplifies my rituals, my stims, and my sensory perceptions, which can either mask or intensify symptoms.
- Common triggers include sleep deprivation, intense stress, hormonal changes, stopping treatment, and over-involvement in a project.
- My safeguards: daily tracking (mood, sleep), paying attention to the urge to stop medication, support from my psychiatrist, and tools like ChatGPT.
Recognition + support = the key to better stability and better day-to-day functioning
