Keep up (again)

Some days are better than others, on both ends of my emotional spectrum. Things this week have been rough, fast and electric, tumbling blindly. My brain has run much faster than I’d like, and it’s always difficult to explain what that’s like when I’m in the middle of it. So here’s a moment of a LESSER manic cycle from about six months ago. In the last five days, I have eaten twice, slept five hours, and twice considered the number of stones required for my pockets. In all, amplify this flash tenfold, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of my life as only moderately manic. At least I’m not stuttering…

I’m pacing around the classroom, meeting the students’ needs, lecturing, answering questions, offering suggestions, but my mind is doing everything else at the same time. I am thinking:

  • Why isn’t that student reading?
  • I need to order my camping hammock. What color? Size? When can I use it? Where?
  • Check my phone–nothing.
  • What’s going on with my supportive significant other? Am I still significant? Was I ever? (I read the note stapled to my wall-“You mean a lot to me. Be okay.” What if I’m not? I read the other note-“It’s all good. I ain’t running off. It’s all good.” I breathe. Doesn’t help.)
  • I should be grading papers, but I’d rather write. I haven’t even submitted anything lately.
  • I worry about my sister. She’s dying, and I have no control over that.
  • I think about everyone I’ve ever loved who’s died. There are too many, too suddenly. I think about Wade.
  • Brings me back to the significant other. I hope he can stay. I love him. Too desperately.
  • I’m writing haikus in my head. They are horrible
  • Pockets full of stones/Promises of finality/Not waving, drowning
  • There are things to say/Whispers in the soft of night/Past the land of fears
  • Song of the Sirens/Eyes the blues of the seas/My heart is capsized
  • My haikus are shit/All they do is speak around/The Truth that is you
  • Yup. Really bad.
  • Did I take attendance?
  • Back to a runaway. Where can I go? When? Will I have to go alone? Probably. Do I want to? Nope.
  • I used to be more productive in this phase.
  • I need to make biscotti.
  • I’m having looping catastrophic thoughts.
  • I’m impressed. Therapy has taught me lots of words.
  • Knowledge is power. (Schoolhouse Rock music begins to play in my head.)
  • Christ. It’s only been five minutes.
  • Still nothing on my phone. Have I done something? Not done something? Shared too much? Been too crazy?
  • Breathe. Still doesn’t help.
  • Back to running away. Geography cure.
  • I need to sort these books.
  • This is exhausting.

And it is. Every time. And each time I know that what goes up, must come down. And that’s worse. I wait for it, afraid.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. trystanmichaels
    Mar 30, 2017 @ 16:58:07

    I can relate although I have entirely the opposite problem. I can go for days without thinking anything significant. Without thinking at all really. It’s like being in a fog. Faces fade in and fade out. I smile, flirt, continue working. Do all the things because thats apparently my role. It’s all an act though, I really don’t care. Nothing seems to matter most days. I’m not sure if it’s an escape or if I just really don’t care. I just repeat the same pattern over and over. I could probably use a little mania now and again. Or beer… how about beer? You provide the beer and I will provide the immovable object for you to throw yourself against. And if nothing else I’m always here with a hug.


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