An Open Letter to Myself
You can look at this in two ways.
1) Okay, so your rapidly changing mood fucking terrifies me. You can be ecstatic, enthused, excited, over-joyed one minute, and on the brink of tears the next. I googled the symptoms of Bipolar disorder and sobbed. What if you are? What does that mean for the project you just started? The one you just thought up? You were so excited about it. What if it’s just the seed of a manic episode and you are about to lose all interest in it?
Those symptoms are terrifyingly familiar.
The idea that you might never be able to trust your own plans and ideas because they might just be the result of some manic self-importance is the most horrifying idea. What do you do with your life if you can’t trust anything you think? Is your sense of self unreal?
2) I mean, come on! You’ve been fine so far. What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you letting yourself wallow? Get on with it. Have a bath. Read a book. Eat something good. Get outside your goddamn house. Call your friends! Have faith in the projects you’re excited about. Don’t be such a fucking drama queen. Think about it: you’re tired. You’re bound to be depressed.
And blah blah blah… poor you, you’ve had such a bad year… blah blah blah… when are you going to get over that? Just pick yourself up. You weren’t Bipolar before; you aren’t now.
Your Mum would fucking laugh if you told her you felt like this. And she’s never been wrong yet.
Get the hell on with it! Life is short.
p.s. Or maybe you are sick…
p.p.s. Feel better now you’ve written that? Good.
p.p.p.s. How long will the peace last this time? Let me know when you’re crying again.