It doesn't take much to topple this bipolar person from her delicate balance. I've worked very hard to achieve "normal." Normal is for me a very hard-won balancing act. I teeter here, on the balance beam of sanity, a bit wobbly but still standing. One missed dose of antidepressant and the two mood stabilizers made me stay up all night and spend yesterday watching old movies and lying in bed trying to stay out of trouble. I tried to tweet a bit, write a place holder post, and clean up my dresser, but I couldn't type. Words tumbled out like letter salad. I now think I know what it must feel like to be truly dyslexic, the brain moving like lightning, too fast for the fingers to keep up. My one little cleaning project expanded as I moved the mess on top of my dresser from one surface to another, expanding chaos rather than taming it.
Today I thought I'd be back to "normal," but I'm slow and disinclined to do anything but stay out of trouble. Monday is a day I usually grocery shop, but I'm not inclined to trust myself to stay out of trouble in a store of any kind. Shopping is potentially dangerous. And I'm not in desperate need of anything yet. I can feed myself today. I have plenty of dog food. Nobody needs a treat, so sending myself off to the treat store is just flirting with disaster. If I really want to see what shopping is all about for me, I'll clean the cupboard and fridge. I could probably feed a family of four for a month on what I have stashed away. I'll thaw something for dinner. I know from a cursory glance that I have ham steak, pork chops, rib eye steak, pot roast, ground lamb and more. In my pantry I have rice, potatoes, grits, cereal, two back-up jars of mayonnaise; what the hell do I need? I have greens for salad, cabbage for slaw. I have honey yogurt and blueberries. I will not starve.
I'd love to work outside, but the temperature is climbing toward the high 90s so I'm going to spend another day just chillin'. If my brain were in good functioning order I'd read all day, but a page of words is like trying to read word-salad. Typing is easier today, but still not as natural as it should be. I could retweet all day on twitter, but I'd have nothing original to add to the conversation, so I'll give it a break for one more day. The world won't wobble off it's axis without me.
An Ice Cold Imagination
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