alltheavenueslookugly

title:   ultra ultra-rapid cycling (or from smiling to shitty.)

 

everything slows down until the last sounds are dragged out and then a new thought begins and i am able to acknowledge that i might be happy in this moment. i stop walking and hold my breath and think about what my mind looks like right then and i imagine it as just a bunch of bright colors and the smell is like fabric softener and maybe there is a trumpet or two in the background?

yes.

‘holy shit, i am actually content.’

i can feel my heart lift in my chest and i get a quick inhale of euphoria and i am able to exhale my breath and still feel completely okay.

i smile. a true smile. one that begins at my mouth and moves over my entire body and i am still care-free.

actually, there might be cares. but i can’t find them at the moment and that is completely okay also.

instantly my head fills with ideas and aspirations and it’s hard not to get too excited at this point. i want to write. i want to read. i want to call somebody that i care about and let them know how much i care about them and maybe when they hear that joy in my voice they will believe me and i realize i can do so many things now. there is sun and it is out.

it’s been two minutes.

i think about how it used to feel when i was sad. when that sadness was just this part of me and that almost became okay after a certain amount of time. before, i thought that i would miss the sadness when it left me – not as an old departed friend – and i wondered how i would survive without it.

but i felt okay. i knew i was going to be able to make it. anything was fucking possible now.

this is how regular people feel, i imagine.

it’s been three or four minutes.

i close my eyes and smile again –

 

and then it’s gone.

 

it doesn’t even come in like a horrible storm – the kind that you watch it approaching and know it has nothing but bad intentions and you have just a little time to prepare for it, to run and hide or crouch down in a dark room and hope it just passes over you.

no, it comes suddenly. it rushes in before i have a chance to blink and brace myself.

it hits my brain at unsafe speeds.

and everything i was feeling before is gone.

it’s shattered and burned and i can barely see the bones that are left and the smell is awful.

i cannot do a thing. my mind is frozen.

i’ve just gone through every emotion that is even close to being associated with fear in a matter of two or three seconds. i’m always surprised that i don’t piss my pants or explode crying and screaming when this happens. it’s that intense.

i wouldn’t be able to handle it if somebody walked by and waved or said hello right then. i am pretty sure i wouldn’t recognize anybody at that time, though i might. but i wouldn’t be able to speak to them. no fucking way.

i’m nine years old again lying in the middle of my bedroom during a storm and the blinds are raised on the window and there is somebody evil staring in at me. just watching me. it’s the most goddamn frightening thing ever. he doesn’t look happy or threatening. there is nothing in his eyes.

but he is staring right at me. i go cold all over. i cannot close my eyes and expect him to vanish. he’ll still be there when i open them. or even worse, he’ll have moved closer and his face will be pressed against the window and every time i see lightening i’ll see just how pale and lifeless his skin is –

it’s been seven minutes.

the initial fear has subsided just a bit and i am left covered in all that it has left behind. it is disgusting and muddy – shit and bugs and gremlins and everything you hate that either scares you or annoys you or just makes you want to cry – and it clings to every part of me and when i was younger i would sit and look at it and wonder what the hell it was doing and when it was going to let me go. and now i know that it will let go when it wants to. when it is good and goddamn ready and not a minute before that. sometimes i am able to go about my day – it is familiar and an inconvenience but tolerable. those are most days. and then there are those days that it is just too much. it is way too heavy and what i am watching destroy my mind is foreign and unrecognizable and impossible to ignore. i’ll try wrestling with it in my head. i’ll try picking it off me and stomping my foot down on it as if it were just a handful of bugs. most of the time this never works.

it becomes just letting it do it’s thing. i’ve fought and fought and tried so hard.

it’s been eight minutes.

this is every single day for the past twenty years.

every single day of my life.

i don’t expect everyone to understand what i just tried to explain, but fuck…twenty years. it’s such a long time.

it’s been eight and a half minutes.

if i am lucky, this will only happen to me once or twice a day.

most often it happens so many times that i lose count very early.

yes, sometimes i spend my entire day trying to deal with going up and then back down and then back up and then back down in the span of ten minutes or in an hour or two. this can happen anywhere, at any time, and in any situation. maybe i am on a date. maybe i am on the couch watching television. maybe i am at work, surrounded by co-workers and strangers and i have nowhere to run. sometimes it will go right away and sometimes it just leaves me in a deep depression that goes uninterrupted for a day or two.

inconsistent and full of surprises.

if i am lucky, i’ll get a break somewhere in there. i’ll get those few moments of contentment. i’ll get a chance to smile and really feel it.

i do look forward to those times. even though the depression is so heavy. is it worth going through the hours and days of depression for those rare times when i don’t feel sad?

honestly?

no.

fuck no.

but there is a reason that i – and so many others like me – keep going. i have no idea why i do.

some days i want – NEED – that reason. i need something i can see and touch and hug and fuck and cry on. i need to know that it won’t always be like this. i need to be absolutely convinced that things will be okay some day. i need to know this from somebody other than a therapist or doctor or friend or stranger. because they don’t know for sure.

it’s been eleven minutes.

and on my better days i am just okay with the journey.

~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2013/04/26.

Posted in april13
Tags: bipolar disorder, crying, depression, guilt, love, mental illness, posts about suicide, rapid cycling