I’m sitting in the back room on the recliner with my fur babies and a 40 oz of Bud Lite Mang-O-Rita typing my life away. I’ve written a few pieces about depression and the sorrowful slump it puts you in but I haven’t written about the manic side. Now again, I have not been diagnosed with bipolar disorder but I have known a few people who have been, and I often feel like I can relate to them. Let me be clear also that I’m speaking from my heart here, not trying to simplify what others have and are going through.
Tonight I feel the opposite of the way I do on my depressed nights that I’ve had so many of lately, and there is no reason for it. Nothing in my life has changed except I feel happy and I feel loved consistently. I feel like Eric is being nicer to me than usual, picking me flowers on his way home from work or getting me my coffee exactly the way I like it on the outside. He always does these things, spoils me I mean, but when I’m sad I guess I don’t really notice it. I feel guilty to ask him for help, but for now that guilty feeling has been replaced with gratitude.
I feel like I’m in control, I feel a rush of ecstasy that I can’t envision ever coming down from. I will though because just like I can feel that my sadness is not real at times when that cloud follows me I can feel now that this joyous rush I have is every bit as artificial. I honestly don’t know how I know, maybe it’s the pattern, but somehow I do. Right now I can see Ed’s body down on the foot rest, his head and floppy ears resting by my toes while Eddy’s sleeping head is resting on my left wrist as I struggle to type. This feels a lot like the good life, it’s nothing special but I am what believers would refer to as blessed. This often happens when I’m happy, and it ends because I’m so afraid to loose it.
I’ve heard that confidant and driven people don’t have time for doubts but I wonder if it would not be more correct to say that happy people don’t allow themselves to be brought down or to reflect on the world outside themselves. Happiness is more of a life style choice than people give it credit.
Anyway though, when I’m stuck in a down swing everything looks hopeless but when I’m up everything looks beautiful. It’s as if I’m in a tall tower looking down at my life. It isn’t linear, it’s all flowing in parallel sequences and I can see the big picture instead of getting stuck on some past event. I’m afraid to try and take anti-depresents to level out the situation because I don’t want to gamble away these good times. I love being this happy, it doesn’t last long but these are the days I live for. As it stands it’s either one or the other. There is no middle ground for me.
When I’m happy I don’t have to remind myself to look outside at the bright sun beaming across the green life outside, I notice my sweet little dogs who are curled up, that they fell asleep looking at me. I notice all the small sweet things Eric does to make me happy and instead of feeling bad about it I just want to try harder to show him that I care too. Like I said above, everything is beautiful and I’m all around less needy when I’m happy, less insecure because of it.