Friday, August 20, 2004

Emotional Overload!

Every now and then, my emotions just run off the charts. It's like I feel so many things that I get entirely frustrated because expressing each and every emotion is pretty much impossible. Want a demonstration?

Currently, I am so ANGRY that I want to beat someone to a bloody pulp. I want to throw things, break telephones, plates and any other breakable object in the house. Everything is intolerable to me. I want to shave my head because my hair itches. I want to take a knife and slice my shoulders because they are so tense I can barely move my head. I want to claw my own skin to get out of it. I want to throw a tantrum so loud and shrill that my neighbors would call the police because they'd think someone was murdering me. I want to rip a stranger's balls off and make him eat them.

I am so SAD. I feel like the world is so cruel, that life will never improve, that every second life persists is another second of torture. I mourn for everyone I've let down. I cry for letting myself down. I cry because I feel persecuted by my boss, who basically wants to quarantine me. I feel so awful for everyone who finishes fourth in the Olympics. I feel so horrible for every child stuck in Najaf who has to hear explosions and gun shots and words of hatred. They should be playing. And it's just a horrible world that we live in where people are exposed to such horror.

I am so SCARED. I'm scared of failing. I'm scared of the future. I'm scared of looking in a dark mirror and seeing someone else reflected there, like a knife wielding maniac ready to kill me. I'm scared that Brendan, my love, will meet someone more stable and more beautiful in law school and decide that he wants to cut and run. I'm scared that everyone in my graduate program thinks I'm a nutcase, a freak of some kind. I'm scared of the future, of breaking down and having to go back to the hospital. I'm scared that if I have kids, they'll be like me. I'm scared that I'll die and no one will find me for days and my pets will go hungry. I'm scared that my fan will drop off the cieling and scar me for life. I'm scared of crossing the yellow lines and hitting someone head on. I'm scared of SO many things.

I'm FRUSTRATED. I know that I'm being irrational. I want myself to snap out of it, to wake up and do the things I need to do instead of moping around. I hate watching my thoughts circle around in my head without coalescing into some coherent idea. I don't understand why I'm stuck like this! I just want to SNAP OUT OF IT!!! I want to be better NOW!

I HATE. Hate is a strong word. But I hate. I hate being lazy. I hate feeling the way I do. I hate hurting other people because I have yet to master my moods. I hate sleeping for 15 hours and still feeling exhausted. I hate having a dirty house and not having the motivation to clean it. I hate watching the books for my thesis sit on my floor unopened and unread. I hate being out of control. I hate it when people don't understand me and I can't explain my situation to them. I hate feeling like I have something to hide.

I'm CONFUSED. I honestly have moments when I am completely baffled by this disease. Often, I don't know how I feel. Other times, I don't really feel anything at all. I don't know what to do to make myself feel better and I have the notion that I'm a guinea pig in some larger experiment.

I'm SUSPICIOUS. At the risk of sounding paranoid, I truly am suspicious of other people. If someone shows me kindness, I wonder what they want. I wonder if my doctor wants to see me to line his pockets with cash. I suspect that people talk about me behind my back and they are NOT saying nice things. I suspect that people are fed up with me. I suspect that my cats like Brendan better. I suspect that people feel sorry for me. I suspect that my illness might be related to some toxin in the environment.

I'm a VICTIM. I feel victimized by this freakin disease. Why did I have to get it? Why couldn't one of my siblings be the sickly one? Why is medicine so retarded that it can't fix me? If a doctor's motto is "above all, do no harm," why can't I harm them when they fuck up?

I feel NAKED. Everyone must know and see that there's something wrong with me. I know that I can't hide it very well. I know I must be like a walking freak show sometimes.

But oddly, I'm HAPPY. Sometimes, I feel exuberant. Despite all the crap that comes with being bipolar, at least it distinguises me from the masses. I feel like I'm on top of the world, like everyone is jealous of me because I am just that darn cool. I feel giddy and smiley. I could laugh for hours at nothing at all.

I'm damn SEXY. Dude. I feel like God's gift to men. My body is gorgeous. My face is delicious. My hair is like gold on my head. I have a mystery about me that entrances even the most grumpy. I make women jealous because sometimes, my self confidence is overwhelming.

And, I'm freakin HORNY. Seriously, I think I'd screw just about anything that walks, male or female. I'm overloaded with passion, with the need to taste someone's skin and be awed by the beauty of humanity. I feel sensual, irresistable and damn, I want to have sex right NOW! I would do an entire platoon right about now.

I'm feeling a bunch of other stuff that's harder to put into words.

But man, you can see why I'm so stuck right now! I can't make sense of myself. How can you be happy and sad at the same time? How can you want to be alone and crave sex so much? How can I be scared and euphoric?

In my opinion, being in a mixed state (a blend of mania and depression) is a horribly wonderful dangerous beautiful and terrifying place to be. It's fun and annoying.

But it is dangerous. And maybe that's why I have a drive to be alone, for self-preservation. After all, being impulsive is one thing, but being stupid is something else entirely.

Ugh. I'm so ______.