The depressed me is quiet (well quiet for me that is) and doesn’t bother to express much. It’s just easier that way, I don’t have the energy in me to discuss anything with anyone let alone try to explain things when they are not understood (which is more often than I like).
But what am I now that I’m not depressed? It is definitely not full blown manic, and it certainly is not level.
I feel like it could be slight mania, then I still tend to have quick shifts to short lasting deflation which accompanies the bursts of energy.
Maybe it’s what is referred to as a ‘mixed state’???
All I know is…
– I have a lot of energy, but zero energy. I literally feel like I could burst from energy that is clogged inside, yet I don’t have any giddy up/energy to go above and beyond or be proactive.
-I can be moved to over-the-top giddiness with a simple thought and want to squeal in joy and jump around like a spastic toddler but that energy can exhibit itself as over-the-top irritation which makes me want to throw things and growl whatever frustrations are applicable at the time.
-Then there is the “comedic” part. Oh damn does this part think I am so fucking funny. That’s it, I think it’s so funny, everyone else seems to think it’s insensitive, violent, maybe even a little psycho to have such thoughts, let alone speak them out loud.
I also know that…
-Half of me wants to just blow everything/one off and not give a damn and half of me wants to shake a bitch and say WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU while the third half (yes I did just say I have 3 halves – and maybe I do) still wants to sit down and cry or “dissolve”.
-Half of me wants to sleep an indefinite slumber and the other half wants to stay up all night long sucking in all the entertainment and information I can get my hands on.
-I have all the answers/perfect responses/know exactly what I’d say to whom; but wait; I have none of the audacity it would take to follow through with those thoughts.
-I have all the best ideas and solutions yet don’t care enough to do shit about it. (And let’s be real, I think they are all the best but chances are they could be as loony as Bugs Bunny.)
I could go on for hours with examples but I don’t want to. My point is I am exactly one half combined with the extreme opposite of that half all crammed into one little fleshy shell.
Half of me is proud and loving it, the other half wishing this shit would just fucking stop even though it is better than depression.
This mixed state, or whatever it is requires far too much thinking. But I suppose I should be grateful it is not full blown mania which can cause earth shattering devastation in my life and I won’t slow down long enough to see it until it’s too late.
Some days I just wish I didn’t have to analyze my brain so much just to keep things in check.
Then I remind myself, analyzing and keeping in check is much preferred to what happens if I am un-medicated and running wild.