mood swings

Cracking Stability

It’ll pass

it’ll pass

it’ll pass

but why am I left to ask

when will it pass

when will it pass

when will it pass

Life is an ass

a snake in the grass

with every path

and every clash

I take a headlong crash

and smash a balance that lacks

pillars against these traps

my stability impacts

and cracks

and all I can ask

is when will this pass?

Drowning

The tide of life swims in and out

sometimes so fast I can’t keep count

its tiring

the sighing

and crying

and ‘I don’t want to keep trying’

then up and away

my emotions sway

thoughts stretched tight and in motion

the brain drinking dry the magic potion

then the high drops

and more crying won’t stop

and she drowns

without a sound

sapped dry by the lie

of happy endings

and broken hearts mending

Happy day’s a happenin’

happy day

Today I was happy. Three physiotherapy treatments later and my back is back to normal. I no longer look like the hunch back of Notre Dame, all crippled and dragging my right leg behind me. I am pain free, manic and livin’ large!

My text messages were all ‘LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL’. I sang out loud in the car going to work. I walked with my head held high, making eye contact with people, smiling at them. Who’d a thought!

I even talked at work. Yes *solemn nod of the head* I actually participated and socialised. Which is a remarkable difference to my usual silent, gloomy and potentially dangerous air – earphones plugged in, Linkin Park on repeat a reflection of my internal struggle. My own personal thunder storm escaping far from the madding crowd.

No, there were no earphones today. Today I was shouting out to be heard above the chaos, waving my arms around, all animated ‘n stuff. And was I ever funny? So funny. I had them rolling in their office desk chairs, screaming with laughter. Ohhhh, I’m so funny when I’m manic….. My brain has a clear signal to my funny bone. My colleagues just LOVED me today. I noticed the new girl even lost that almost frightened look when she glanced my way. I was light and fun and funny and engaging, smiling, laughing. I even danced a bit with one of the girls. A beautiful youngster was teaching me something called ‘dabbin’. Hey, I was cool, got my gangsta on. My back is fixed, I’m manic, I can conquer the world.

I bet my colleagues wish I was always like this. So do I. Yes, today was a happy day. They are few and far between. So I am enjoying this one to the hilt.

 

Love’s reality

he says he knows my moods but cannot name them
and whose to blame him?
who wants to talk of suicide and being left behind?
or a rage that would make front page?
being volatile and all up in his face?
we don’t want that, it’s such disgrace
so we put on a brave face
and say we cannot name the moods
that confuse
and confound
as they liberally abound
no
no, no, no,
we don’t talk of such things and the reality they bring
rather let’s perform and pretend and hide
from the truth that waits to flood with the rising tide
and when overwhelmed and drowning
taking a bipolar pounding
he’ll leave because he finally sees
the proof that lies in the truth

Exhaustion and the art of internal chatter

I had a bad night with Lover last night. *shrug* we all have our demons. Sooooo, not much sleep. Anxiety overload.

I’m not adequately medicated. Only taking lithium. Doc’s plan is to start from scratch and I only see him in one and a half week’s time. My mood swings are a fairground attraction. Jovial turns to forlorn. Dark and irritable, grumpy and angry, I feel like I could snap at any minute, beat someone to death with my handbag. I have to keep myself strongly contained at work. An enormous amount of internal chatter. Can’t be having “unacceptable behaviour” so early into my return from “resting and getting better”.

So I tell myself: It’s okay. You’re doing fine. Noooooo, don’t react, just say “yes” and avoid conflict. Don’t talk, it will only get you into trouble. I can’t do this today. Yes you can. Just keep saying “yes” with a smile. Put your head down and work. I dunno how I’m gonna get through today. Okay, get lost in work, the time will go quickly. You’ll be fine. You’re doing well. No I’m not. Yes you are. You’ll be fine. One hour down, seven and a half to go. Good girl, another hour’s gone by. Noon, keep going, it’s almost nearly hometime. You can do this.

mask

I’m happy when I’m sad, amiable when I’m angry, bubbly when I’m tired and giving a fuck when I don’t (source: http://www.lifejunkies.net)

It’s hard work, a momumental effort, to wear a mask. To plaster a smile of my face and be merry, accommodating, patient, capable. I am utterly exhausted. I don’t know how I will manage to get through today. I know I will. Because that’s what we do. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time. One step at a time. One breath at a time. Until hometime, bedtime and an exquisite disappearance from the world.

Off balance, distracted and disturbed

Forgive me bloggers, for you are about to be confused. Welcome to my world.

Just throw a helmet on my head and call me Special. I’m off balance in mind and body, bumping into things and tripping over my own feet. They say Pride comes before a fall…. nooooooooooo, LOVER DOES – he caught me before I did the horizontal with the pavement. I also hit my forehead a nasty one on a window latch. Well, it is early for Easter, but I’m sporting a shiny egg-head on my noggin.

Cantankerous and angry mostly. Chit-chatty and talkative the next. Brooding and unresponsive. Tired but can’t sit still, won’t sleep there’s too much to do, rocking back and forth in the chair as we eat dinner. I just can’t stop the movement. Poor Lover has whiplash. I try to explain what and why, but even I don’t understand myself. He’s kind and tells me it’s okay. I hope it is.

Right now, I’m not the brightest light in the harbour. A few peas short of a casserole, I have turned distraction into an artform and deprived a village of its idiot.

I’m going to do the dishes”….. sits down at computer and fiddles, that reminds me, gets up, puts a DVD on, starts watching, but floor is dirty, starts mopping floor, stops mopping floor, there is a sudden urgency to have a vase of flowers in just that particular corner, the thought of flowers will not be extinguished, scissors in hand, skips off down the road in search of flowers, can’t find any and remembers doesn’t have a vase anyway, back home starts smoking a cigarette, curtains are blowing in the wind and need fixing, fiddles with curtains and tie backs, cigarette burns down, gets a thought, quick jot it down before it disappears, sits down at computer and fiddles.

Two hours later and the washing machine is spinning away. Confused Lover asks “Where’ve you been? I thought you were just going to do the dishes?”

Yes, I know, I’m sorry, I was….. but then……I got sidetracked because there was ……”

I never finish the sentence because my thoughts distract me and I forget what I was saying. Lover is kind, and tells me it’s okay. I hope it is. Because right now, I am the poster child for birth control.