The silence gets us nowhere way too fast.
I feel bat shit insane. Not a little looped, not a little crazy. Fucking insane. I can’t control the thoughts that tumble over and over in my head. I’ve been slowly winding from my latest manic episode the last few days and quite frankly, it sucks. I, like most other bipolars, thoroughly enjoy the feel of having no fucks and the wild rush of doing things that, in the long run, are just not smart. I especially enjoy the mania because my brain doesn’t overwork. I can throw my head back, howl, and live in it.
This doesn’t happen every time. I suppose it depends on who or what influences me while I’m rolling through. There are times when I spend weeks in constant rage and anger, responding to everything aggressively and violently. There are others when I just don’t care about anything but the rush of whatever I want at that moment–usually something daring and potentially devastating. Sometimes I just have so many thoughts and ideas I could write a book, except I don’t want to, but I could, dammit! Well, at least until I got bored and moved onto the next thing.
This time I enjoyed partying with a few friends and stayed out way too late, drove way too fast, and basically acted like a kid. Bad influences abound! I wish I could control it better, ride it out, make it last longer. But I can’t. I suppose if I was normal, un-broken, it would be something that would be a normal emotion that wouldn’t be so extreme. I’d be happy, bouncy, awesome. Instead, I’m… this.
Sio isn’t cool. I’ve never been a popular person. So sometimes I wonder, if I wasn’t this crazy, mood-swingy person, would I be less awkward, and therefore a little less dorky? Would people like me more? Does that actually matter to me? Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. Right this second, if I REALLY think about it, I don’t care. I’m still semi swung. Will I care tomorrow? Potentially. The next day? Maybe. The day after? Probably. But right now? I’m enjoying the last thread of this bit of dead-inside-carefree-type-feeling. Though there really are a few things I want to do that I just can’t quite get myself to do. Shame.
I had a friend recently stop talking to me. I have no clue why. I don’t know what I did. He never told me, just stopped talking. One of those things I want to do, but can’t quite get myself to do is ask him what the fuck I did to piss him off. My head is going over and over and over it. And I remember every little thing we said the last few times we spoke, and I can’t figure it out. I have a few potential ideas, but they are incredibly simple and petty, and unlike him.
I want to scream and yell.
Can you hear me, should I turn this up for you?
The silence is what kills me.