Yesterday I was that crazy person you see downtown. I was walking around before being picked up by Craig to go home and I was talking to myself. I knew it looked and sounded crazy. And I knew I was "that girl" but I didn't care.
Today...today I am the person that you see on medication. The first person you think of when you think of someone on psychiatric medicine. My eyes are vacant, and they have trouble staying open. I am slouched, and limp. I ache, and even walking is an overwhelmingly tiring activity. I have cried out of shear exhaustion. I am emotionally raw, and yet I feel nothing.
No one noticed yesterday at work when I was manic. Today, my boss and my boss's boss have both asked me if I was on drugs. Tom knows a bit about my history, but Cliff doesn't. They joked that they hoped I had enough brain cells left to complete the day and get the work done that needed to get done.
I would love to go home and curl up in bed with comfy clothes, and a warm blanket. I long to sleep away the days. Nothing matters today. I long for yesterday where everything was bright and sparkly, where nothing mattered - but in a good way because I was unstoppable.
I struggle to remain conscious. To remain present. I fail.
Up and down. No neutral. Black and White. No grey.
I exist - kind of.