I learned something new on August 9th. Breaking bones doesn't hurt. I felt nothing unusual when I hit the floor that day. The bone breaking doesn't hurt, but the effect of the broken bone hurts. By the time I got my first dose of morphine, I knew a new kind of sharp, excruciating pain, which was a stark contrast from the fall that broke the bone.
Being in a manic state doesn't feel bad. It's quite the opposite. Even though there are negative voices in your head telling you that you aren't good enough or worthy of love and attention, you live on a high of hormones and energy that make you feel invincible. But like the broken bone, afterward, there is hell to pay. There are apologies to make, relationships to mend, and hardest of them all; forgiving yourself for actions you were aware of at the time, but had little control over.
I haven't forgiven myself yet, but I now live every day realizing that what I do will have consequences. I'm trying to live so that those consequences aren't something that make life hard for me or those I love later. It never hurts during the act, whether saying an unkind word or giving a compliment, but there will be a consequence in the end. Make it a good one.