Now Playing: Fix You by Coldplay (lights wil guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you)
I don't really know what's wrong with me. I don't understand how it all works. What I do know is that I have what you might call...mood swings. But they're more than just that.
The littlest things, like going out or talking to people or just having someone smile at me, can trigger ecstasy. I am euphoric. I am so unbelievably and irrationally happy I laugh at everything, I smile at anything, I love everyone. It can last just a few hours, a few days, or even months and months of just being completely and blissfully content.
But what goes up must come down. The adrenalin...there's the rush, and then there's the crash. It's almost like depression, but not really. But I am in a different frame of mind, morally, emotionally. I never do things that I genuinely regret, but when I'm in a dark place I do dwell on the what ifs and could bes and consequences of things. Things that I was fine with, things that I have done without regret, things that I have said, things that other people have done, suddenly make me crawl. It's a combination of a sudden change in morality and a distinctly acute awareness of what other people might think.
It's not entirely pleasant, and not at all in my control. I can hide both of them to a certain extent, but that's not entirely helpful; I'm more prone to outbursts when I push everything under, and it lasts longer if I can't get it all out. It's not something that lasts forever - unlike real depression - but I just have to ride it out. I can, temporarily, put it out of my mind, but it's always there, lurking. Night time is the hardest; if the day's been busy and I haven't had enough me time it'll all come out when I go to bed and I'll cry myself to sleep for no apparent reason. Writing helps; I have a diary now, but seeing as I only write in it when I'm euphoric or depressed it actually reads like a log book in a mental asylum, and of course my blog, my beloved blog. Talking helps, too, but now I find that there are only certain things I can talk about to certain people - I don't have one person to whom I can just dump everything on. The hardest part is that, when I am a little down, I get so angry about things that I'm either fine with or pretend to be fine with, but I can't bring it up, I can't get angry at people, I can't lash out when there's nothing really to lash out about, which does not help my mood at all. And because the triggers are so little it's hard to explain how and why; people don't realize that it's not the trigger that matters, it doesn't matter if it's something petty and trivial or huge and paradigm-shifting; as long as cause and effect is there, the wheel is in motion.
But it's okay. I'm okay with it all. It's how I am. And it's not always one extreme or the other; if nothing triggers anything (it's funny how the littlest things can trigger but the biggest things are sometimes easier to swallow) I am more or less normal; or as normal as I can be, anyway. And I'm glad that the depression is an exception, not a rule; I am, honestly, happy.
But I just need people to understand...understand that when I am going through the motions I'm not myself. I might say things or do things that aren't always thought through. I might be angry, or upset, or sad or hurt or disgusted but it really, genuinely isn't you, it's me. And I just need the security of just knowing that I'm not freaking people out with all of this. I will listen to anything, I can handle anything - stuff like this or much, much worse - and it would be just lovely if just one or two people could return the favour; 'you're crazy but I love you', as it were. I will always be there for people, and people can tell me anything; anything, really, I've seen and heard it all. Don't get me wrong, people have been very understanding, and it's very sweet and touching. I don't want people to judge me or run away from me because of all of this, because I have a very real reason not to judge people. I know I am being difficult but I don't have a choice. It's not exactly something to be proud of, but I'm not ashamed of how I feel.
So for everyone who hasn't run for the hills, for everyone who hasn't branded me a freak, for everyone who hasn't accused me of being...I don't know, I've been accused of far too many things...Thank you. Seriously.