i'm a pixie.

this.

yes.

i am on an upswing right now, on a lovely contract, with a swell cast and someone who makes me feel pretty.

but this feeling… it’s a fragile thing, to be sure.

seems like i’m always waiting for the bubble to pop.

heylabodega:

i often feel that i’m careening through the world, trusting indiscriminately and banging into things and spraining my ankles and hurting people and bruising my own heart and others’.  but it’s getting more serious and more careless and more harmful.

i’ve recently begun to suspect that i’m flirting with manic-depression and it terrifies me.  i can’t think of a single person i work with who has never seen me in tears.  my appetite and sleeping patterns seem inextricably tangled with my emotions.  i spend days/weeks/months feeling like the world is my oyster and everyone’s a friend and other days/weeks/months wondering what i’ve done wrong to make everyone hate me and the whole world seem dull and hostile.  i’ve already started to pull other people into my messy little tempest and that isn’t fair.

one thing that really, really clicked was that hypomanic episodes can last for as long as years.  that is, the college years of listlessness and eating disorders followed by the enduring optimism and giddiness of the moves to spain and nyc could be explained by more than locale change.

i just want to be under control.  no, that’s not it.  i want to be in control.  joy doesn’t have to be this soaring, uncontainable emotion and sadness shouldn’t be this all-consuming desperation.  i would give anything to not feel my insides coiled tightly in anxiety over the smallest choices, to not vacillate wildly between despondency and elation, to not be “wildly” anything at all.

i am just so scared.  i’m scaring myself.

song of the moment : “pourin’ down” mike clifford

evening plans : it’s sunday night. you know i’ll be munching on tortilla chips and watching mad men.

i carry my secrets buried under my skin.

they twist and clench and pinch and burn and twitch. my eyes sting often from the frozen knots of muscle and cracking joints.

so i don’t let people touch me much. i don’t want people to know how troubled i am, how much i am afraid.

i will push you away. i will say things to shock you, to annoy you, to push your buttons. to test how much of me you can withstand. i will retreat into myself and into my silence when i believe i’ve gone too far.

i will be far too honest far too soon about my past. i will tell you my stories that have been carefully fashioned over many years of retelling, with well-rehearsed and perfectly delivered cadences. i will make it seem like delightfully wild abandon. i will want to tell you every minute gory detail. too often, you will be disinterested or incredulous or merely wishing you didn’t know these things.

i will be dishonest about my present. or else i will simply remain quiet. i will take too long to answer you as my brain weighs too many options, working out the proper response. as a result, the words will emerge all muddled and mixed up or half-formed, the intent of my message lost and left to misinterpretation.

i will worry in excruciating lengths about my future. mostly about money, jobs, what to eat, where i need to be in the next ten minutes, if i have planned enough to fill the hours to yield maximum productivity. in the end, it alwaysalwaysalways boils down to time.

i will do everything in my power to make you see what a mistake you are making in pursuing any form of relationship with someone as flawed and fraudulent as me. i will want to spare you the nettlesome presence of me.

i will agonize and try to talk myself out of getting attached to anyone.

i will do all of these thing automatically. never on purpose, but i will do them nonetheless.

these are all facts.

but in the end, i don’t want you to stop.

i want you to break through the walls of this fort i’ve built.

please.

song of the moment : “samba de mon coeur qui bat” coralie clement

evening plans : post-gym sauteé of butternut squash, brussels sprouts (steamed these two beforehand, makes cooking so much quicker), pearl onions, white mushrooms, garlic, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme (are you going to scarborough fair?), black eyed peas. peach izze. i’m in heaven. *_*

i love having a weekend.

spent the last two days hanging around madison, taking bikram at inner fire yoga, grocery shopping at whole foods and trader joe’s, hitting up target, eating nepalese food, getting a hot pink mani/pedi, and being home, cooking, inhaling soft serve from the frostie freeze, making finishing touches on the feng shui of my room, and feeling good.

now listening to frenchy music and eating dinner in my cozy little den. might have a nip of malbec before bed.

only one show tomorrow.

i could get used to this.