Just Another Manic Moment
There are times in your life when you suddenly feel low and upset about almost everything. You worry a lot; you hate your life; you wished your life was better. No matter how hard you try to be happy and appreciative, or even optimistic, you still feel empty and sour at the end of the day. Sometimes such episodes are either too deep to fathom or too shallow to really worry about.
A week ago, I declared hiatus on Facebook because I was so depressed I couldn’t smile even at the lamest post anymore. I’ve my own series of ups and downs-energetic and cheerful at one point, gloomy and lethargic the next. I’m losing weight for no apparent reason. I remember when I was young, whenever I feel terribly sad or depressed I’d get a blade to cut my arms to relieve me from the overwhelming emotions. The pain caused by these small cuts would somehow give me a temporary satisfaction and made me feel alive again. The sight of blood gushing out from the wounds would give me comfort from the emotional pain that was intolerable than the cuts. The scars are still visible until now. No cream or ointment can ever erase or hide them. These scars will always be a reminder of how impulsive I was as a teenager. Am I bipolar? I often wonder.
As I’m writing this, I still feel a bit low, but I’m more mature now and I guess I can handle my self better. No more cutting of arms, no more foolishness. I’ve outgrown that stage of my life and I can’t inflict pain onto my self again. My kids are smart not to smell my fear and my dismal disposition so I think I’ll just divert my attention to writing down my emotions and deal with it positively. I know I’ll get through this any time soon. Like I always do.