There are some residual symptoms but it's almost over. Still when I wake up my head is flooded with automatic thoughts, there's some melancholy and I've been extra-horny, the resulting severe self-abuse could be interpreted as a side-effect... This time it wasn't so bad because I didn't hide, I wanted to but people wouldn't let me. Pesky fuckers! I love them. My first instinct is to lock myself in to protect the world from all the horror that is me when in fact I'm trying to protect myself from a world that at times is just horrible. That's one of the traps I have to avoid, problem is when I'm in it I think it's real. Sick? Yes, of course. Here's another one I've spotted, couldn't help, it's huge - and old, about two years of age. It's a crippling fear of myself, a feeling of impending doom I've been nursing since my second (and hopefully last) major depression. It got a hold of me last year in July, not only that, it got me thinking that it was always going to be that way. An annual horror show of unreal despair and death wishes. Since I'm such a masochist - that's right, a living potpourri of insanity - I've been expecting it and seeing things as "signs" - that's crazy talk!! Excuses for self-pity, blocks created to punish myself for things that went wrong not because I'm wicked and therefore shall suffer but because every now and then I get sick. It's the nature of the beast, sometimes it's a thing of wonder, sometimes it's just sad and pathetic. Now regarding the good stuff, there's lots of it - I just fail to mention them cause it's not always convenient. My friends, lovely crazies of the normal prototype and freaks of nature, kept popping up unannounced and taking me out. Not having things my way did wonders for my mental health. Two weeks have passed and I've been feeling more like myself again. Heard some funny things too. One friend told me about a dream from her teens, in it she wrestled and strangled a giant snake. "It's one of those Freudian things" was her conclusion. No shit! Oh and the music, sounds I left in the past and rediscovered: Zé Ramalho, George Clinton, Cássia Eller, even Pink Floyd! Different people, different tastes. I guess I've spent some time (fifteen fucking days!!!) discovering and rediscovering things and now my new 'monday promise' is to stop bullshitting myself. I'll do my best to keep it. Life is usually good, can't let details and distortions make me believe otherwise. About distortions... something has to be done to those orange walls - it looks so psychotic. I remembered what I was thinking when I bought the paint: orange's supposed to help you focus, yeah right, kinda like a mean sargent. I'll paint over it eventually but not right away, no more hurrying, no more unnecessary worries.

Not so dazed but very confused...

Sometimes I find myself in a fetal position, it doesn't matter if I was sitting on the couch or lying in bed, my knees end up in front of my face and it is comforting. It's also proof that I'm broken, that my ego is fragmented, I'm losing it. If I slip too far there's not much I can do. It has to run it's cycles and going down is always tortuous. Nothing new, nothing I can't take. The mixed ones are the worst because you don't know where you stand. One minute is 'happy happy' and next I'm crying my eyes out. Anxiety is so overwhelming the weed ain't helping much. It's the move, I got all wound-up, there was so much to do in so little time. The new place is great, it's quiet and sleep's no longer a problem. The cable guy's supposed to come this week so it's safe to guess that I won't be seeing him until next. No web, no cable, weed's not working, how will I manage to numb my brain under these circumstances? I've been cycling non-stop, hypomania would be more than welcome at the moment, but it's mostly sadness and anger. It gets so turbulent inside my head... knowing that this will pass as soon as I'm settled is nice but sometimes things slip my mind as it obsesses only with darkness. Automatic thinking is fairly eazy to spot but hard to control when it's flooding my head. I'm afraid of writing because I don't want all of this madness and distortion reflected in anything, I just want it gone! So, for now, the best I can do is wait it out. I'm just worried this mixed state I'm in is just a sign of a coming depression. Since I moved in my new home on wednesday I've been keeping busy busy, just like a crazy person. Evidence? I painted the walls of the living room a bright orange. What was I thinking?! It looks good though, surprisingly. I'm doing my room next, I picked a shade of lilac, someone told me it's supposed to be soothing. We'll see...