I'm toying with the idea that I may be bipolar (yes, it's funny, and no, it's not). It's really weird because I can go from the last blog that I wrote (see MySpace blog), as morose and pessimistic as it (read: I) was, to being perfectly happy (or as happy as one can be when his or her life is in utter and complete, but totally entertaining, disarray). The feeling is sort of like that excited feeling you have in your gut and your chest when you're about to see someone you have a crush on, or you're going to go to your favorite theme park or something, or (if you're me in grad school) you found the perfect scholarly peer-reviewed article to compliment your research paper and quite literally you just want to squeal, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" All. The. Time.
It's like my thoughts are racing, I can't think or type fast enough, I can't say everything I want to say because there's too much information. Like I'm on some sort of amphetamine (no, I am not on some sort of amphetamine, and I have stopped drinking coffee as of like a week/week and a half ago). It's like I'm a, I'm a, I'm a, I'm a... t-t-t-t-today, junior!! Hopefully you get the idea.
Nothing happened to make me feel this way, and it's not the first time by far. I go to work, I don't go to work, I work out, I don't work out, I eat, I don't eat, whatever. I didn't like win the lottery or find out my brother is alive and secretly living on an island with Tupac and Elvis. I just sort of morphed from goth kid to pep squad. And I can't quite pinpoint when it happened.
There are a lot of things I do or don't do when I'm "blue" as opposed to when I want to squeal. Por ejemplo, today I did not take a nap, I filed away all of my paperwork from the last 2+ months, I actually cooked myself dinner (I cooked... for like five minutes!), and I haven't cried or wanted to cry, I put away the clean dishes, and some other stuff... it's all very bizarre to me because two days ago I would have done the opposite.
I have never truly bought into the whole "depression" scene and I'm not sure I do even now. Even after considering anti-depressants (and trying them for a very short period after Matt died), I am not truly convinced they'd do anything. When I feel the way I do now, I all but forget what that other bad feeling is like, when two days ago it seemed like it was consuming my very soul. Yet inside I know that feeling lurks dormant and will return. When? Who knows??
Maybe it's just ups and downs... moods, if you will (but most moods I've heard of don't make you want to either scream in anguish or squeal with delight). Maybe it's the anti-PMS. Maybe I'm just excited that I bought my toy poodle a camoflauge coat yesterday. Or maybe, just maybe, all I need to do is take advantage of these times of glee because clearly my writing is a lot - or a least a little - better (unless I'm writing poetry, because poetry and happiness do not cross paths in my world).