For details on Manic Mondays, please see
this post.
Mixed Episode. That's what they call it in the psychiatric world when you feel insanely stimulated and darkly depressed all at one. Degrees of intensity vary from person to person and instance to instance, of course. Irregardless, it feels disconcertingly removed from ... everything and everyone that's supposedly real. It plain hurts, really. Its like trying to drive your car around the busy city whilst flooring the accelerator AND slamming on the brakes ~ like, at the same time.
Mr. Tinkerbell tells me, in the aftermath, that its seems like some evil demon possesses me ... 'its not you ... when you're like that.' Indeed, he's so right. Its sort of not me ... but it is my chemistry and physiology at work. And ... that's what plagued my Friday evening and night ~ a mixed episode. I know the trigger that provoked this latest episode. Just, well, I'm embarrassed to admit the foolish act I committed to trigger my behaviours. But, dear reader, I will.
Its like this ~ I fell off the cocaine abstinence wagon. Yup. Go ahead ... tell me how dumb ... ask me WTF possessed me to do such a dangerous thing. Still, berating myself doesn't alter the reality that I did cocaine again ... even after saying I never, ever would, several months ago! For those of you who don't know ... cocaine feels fabulous ... like an orgasm for the neurons. However, one hit never satisfies the internal monkey. The cocaine monkey, once awakened, wants more and more and more and more and more. She's a greeeeeedy monkey. And she only ever thinks about getting the next banana. Grrrrrrrrr.
Sooo, yeah, I fell off the wagon. And the monkey got pissed off when I cut off her banana supply. Add the stress of being broke and between paydays ... the stress of overcoming marriage strife via form of reconciliation ... the vulnerability that descends in times of unsurity and physical illness ... and the confusion of trying to decide what's right in life. Let's not forget the aging parents that live far away. That's quite a recipe for collapse of some kind.
Angry. I felt possessed by such rage. The kind of rage that makes a person turn normal, household objects into ballistic missiles. The kind of rage that makes a person say vile things to their loved one. The kind of rage to makes a heart race. And, yet ... I felt such despair ~ the despair that deludes you into believing its eternal. I could not reason. I could not negotiate. I could not relent. Self righteous ... lacking insight. Unable to concentrate. Mr. Tinkerbell did the wise thing he always does when I get like this ... he disengaged, silently. In the height of such agitation, one rarely takes time to think about how this behaviour affects persons present. He did not leave. He stayed. And said nothing. How painfully difficult!
After steaming myself into near heat stroke via shower, I turned on my Acer laptop and focussed on the internet ~ my blog, and various sites I have wanted to check out of late. I stayed up until 5 am. But, the internet did provide my brain with the diversion it needed to redirect itself. And, in the process, I discovered the fun of
icanhascheezburger, I pimped this blog on
various blog directory sites, I discovered
psychcentral and I researched some meds I'll need to take.
A misty, sporadic sort of rain fell throughout the day Sunday. Its the sort of weather that makes me feel the dampness in my bones. As night drew closer, the wind picked up, and I could hear the cold howl of the wind, and the angry patter of rain drops hitting the front door. Its early, early Monday morning as I write this. The wind and the rain have settled. Its calm now. Quiet now. I can rest, soon.
Image Credit: Dark Matter by Mary Mattingly
This means challenging my self to compassionate, encouraging, genuine and hostile-free exchanges. It also means contemplating my reaction to the thoughts, feelings and expressions of others, prior to acting upon them. 
