When's This Get Fun?

I can't stand the ups and downs. Last week, I'm hypomanic in my therapist and psychiatrist's appointments, and now I'm flat on the floor. I can't be bothered to do anything. The dishes have been in the sink for two weeks now, and it makes me hate myself. How can I not even get the dishes done? Sometimes I really wish I knew why we go through this existence. I wonder if too much education is a bad thing: it teaches you to question everything, and it doesn't allow you the blind acceptance of societal norms, religion, even psychological propaganda. I had a psychologist tell me once to get up and try to think of 10 things I was happy for. It's a tool, I know, but it's also a distraction. My mind doesn't work that way. It's a trick. Like politics. And it makes me feel less to give into such things. I want to talk and think about real things--not band-aids.