Manic

“Characterized by alternating periods of manic (intense) excitement and severe depression.”

God, does that describe me or what? Perhaps I wasn’t entirely diagnosed when I was in the psyche ward. Maybe they got the depression part right but forgot about the rest of it. Well whatever they did or didn’t do, Webster’s definition of “manic depressive” seems to fit me like a glove.

I had planned on getting some stuff done around the house today, since I haven’t really been home in two weeks. Instead, I climbed out of bed and turned on the Xbox and blew the entire day playing the driving game that my little brother gave me for Christmas.

The entire day all I did was drive imaginary cars in imaginary races on imaginary streets and cause imaginary crashes. It was wonderful. Then I figured I had to go to Wal-Mart to get some stuff I forgot yesterday, so I took a shower and went there.

As soon as I was in the car to go there my mood changed. I can’t say how or why, because I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking about anything that would’ve done that, and nothing happened to me. It was like a massive “depression bird” flew over my head and took a shit on me. But as I was walking through Wal-Mart, it felt like I was on the verge of tears. Like if I didn’t bit my lip to keep it from quivering, I’d break down right there in the juice aisle and bawl my eyes out.

I wish I knew why I am the way that I am. I wish I could figure out the way my brain works. I wish I could uncover all the little things that are hiding, tucked away deep in the folds of my brain, that I’m not even aware of but yet still fuck with my head from time to time. I wish I could pull them out like the weeds that they are and be rid of them once and for all.

It’s times like this that I just wish I could disappear. I wish I could just cease. Part of me tries to tell me that I just want this shit to stop, which I was told over and over by counselors. Yet when I’m honest with myself I have to admit that they were right. I just want it to stop. I want to stop being this way. I want to stop remembering the things that I do (which sometimes will get me into a mood like this, but it’s not the reason tonight). I wish I had a solution instead of just wishing for an escape.

Guess it’s just one more thing to add to the list from yesterday. One more reason I suck. One more thing that makes me a fuckup. One more thing that makes me hate myself. One more thing to prove that I really am the loser that I know I am.

I can’t even control my own fucking mind. I can’t restrain the one part of me that actually makes me who I am.

Seriously, I’m sick of being this way. I’m sick of going for so long without having “relapses,” thinking I’m getting better, and then having everything come rushing back in without warning.

I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever change, and that scares me. I’ve been like this for so long, and it’s sucked. I don’t want to be like this for decades to come. And yet, I’ve tried so many things and had so many people try to help me, which have all failed, that I really believe that there’s anything out there that can help me.

At least not in the present.

Hopefully in eleven months this will all be a completely different story.

*
“Another day
I call and never speak
And you would say
Nothing’s changed at all
I can’t feel
Much hope for anything
If I won’t be there
To catch you when you fall
*
Again
It seems we meet
In the spaces
In between
We always say
It won’t be long
But something’s always wrong.”
*
Toad The Wet Sprocket