I feel catatonic.
Catatonic. Cat tonic. A tonic for cats. A lap cat as a tonic. Distractable. Retractable.
Obviously I know I'm not actually catatonic. I'm not a complete idiot. Regardless. I still want to say I feel catatonic.
I feel catatonic.
Non verbal. Non verbal like my mouth is too slow and stupid to react in real time. Voiceless but not without words in my head. Non verbal like that. Slow. Surreal. Out of sync because I'm functioning slower than reality. Plodding zombie shuffle. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
There is depression that can be tampered with, forced, made to snap back like a hassled dog. And then there is the blank kind, the below suicidal kind, the nothingness and nothing to reason with kind. Everything numb and hard to reach. Expressionless face. Am I here? Am I here?
Been awake nights. I watched the first two seasons of Homeland on demand. Claire Danes does a pretty good job of acting like a bipolar chick. I don't really think a lot about being bipolar. I relate to the Asperger's label so much more. Sure, I was OFFICIALLY DIAGNOSED as bipolar long before I discovered Asperger's, (Aspie's get way hung up on being diagnosed officially, so I like to specify. And also mock the officialness with caps lock.) but I never really took to that label.
I guess because, at the time, the doctors admitted that I was not just bipolar and that there was some other thing about me that they couldn't quite put their finger on. And I knew that was right. And I pretty much thought they were idiots. And then when I found Asperger's I was all like-- THAT'S IT!!! And so then I just took off identifying and learning about that since that was ME and I continued to ignore the whole bipolar thing.
Plus, I tried several mood stabilizers which did nothing to stabilize my mood, so I felt like- how can I be bipolar if zero drugs for bipolar affect me? Plus, I'd known a few other bipolar people, and I didn't really relate to them, so the bipolar part of myself seemed to be either mislabeled or unimportant.
But then I watched Claire Danes flip out over a green pen and go crazy with highlighters and try to explain to her boss that things were "high purple". So, if that is bipolar behavior, well, I totally do that. And it's embarrassing. But mostly, it's just really sad. Because the thing is, my brain DOES work and IS super smart when I have episodes like that. But I sound like an idiot, because I always feel like the people around me can see and understand what I'm talking about when I have epiphanies. But, no, they are not following. I'm always playing by myself.
Anyway, I'm sitting here all catatonic-depressed. And I think I want to snap myself out of it. I dragged myself to the library and I tried to listen to music to kickstart my brain, make it circulate, distract it into another direction-- but I think maybe I force myself to stay depressed so much because being more happy/manic is worse. More isolating.
Because I CAN force myself to slide that way. I can tip the scales but I can't stop the inertia. I can force everything to slur and rush like laughter, but the problem is that it hurts a lot more to be unloved and rejected and misunderstood in that state. It's silly and happy but it's also super vulnerable. And I don't have a mediating speed. It's either full throttle or full stop. So I think I want to be full throttle all the time, I want to be creative all the time, and fast all the time, and not care. But... I do care. And that's the problem.
I don't need everyone to love me. But I do need a few people to love me. And I do have Garret, which is more than I probably deserve. But I guess I'm greedy.
I write things when I'm feeling stuck and depressed to try and get my brain moving. I guess I don't really have a point to this post other than that. So, in conclusion, cats are awesome.