if a sad girl quietly cries all alone in her apartment on the outer edge of a city,
...does she exist?





cuurent mood: its never enough
current music: joan of arc - this life cummulative

time speeds up and slows down several times a day and sometimes i can not keep up, but usually my mind can, and it likes to go faster, or go slower. did i mention i was in los angeles? yes this is where i am. i am here because my bipolar disorder decided to rear its devil horns into my life and the collective THEY thought i needed to be locked away. at first i conceded, because i was too weak from the bipolar ride to protest or excuse or blame or think of anything else. but when i got to my mom's house, she told me that she couldnt do it. she couldnt do it because last time, twelve years ago, she was so scared of the zombie they had turned me into that she dragged me out of there AMA (against medical advice) and regreted locking me up in the first place. i am glad she told me this because i do not remember that at all. my mind recalls only a whirlwind of voices above my head and then walking outside in my new fuzzy pajamas. so now i am here at my moms house because she is doing better these days and she has cable. she is taking her medication and the occassional zanax when she is anxious. i notice that she takes more zanax when i am here.

name tag says 'bipolar'

Today. April 1st.
so. yes. it is night. it is night and i exercised and i glued and i read and i did not much else besides that. it is night and i am back in touch with the german. i am back in touch with the german but i have told him i am out of town. i have told him i am out of town because i do not want to see him. i do not want to see him or anybody else until i have lost ten pounds.
so i am on the master cleanse. i am on the master cleanse and today was day 1 and i did great.
that was today. my today.

yesterday i felt like i woke up a million times. all of a sudden i looked around and nothing  made sense and everything made sense. that feeling when you wake up and open your eyes and it takes a few seconds for your brain to kick in, and let you know that yes you are awake and you are Here and the Life switched is turned On for the day. they call it 'coming to'. i have that feeling several times a day. i have that feeling several times a day. i have that feeling several times a day and it lets me know that my reality is very mismatched with itself. gone are hours or people or days or conversations or schedules or meals or shows or books or entire bottles of wine. they dont make sense or they cant be explained by the me that is bound to wake up later or tomorrow or yesterday or two days from now.entire sections of my self dont make sense to me; at any given time i can not explain my self to myself. coming to.

is that insanity? insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. the only thing i do over and over like that is wake up every morning. i expect to wake up to a better me or a more energetic me or a more motivated me. or the me that can have a steady relationship, or the me that is an excellent housekeeper, or the me that has realistic, achievable goals and a Plan and a Direction and a Career.
but i never do. and each day i am heartbroken.
in the morning i am a sloth. in the day i am a spider, moving slowly, spinning webs and sometimes hanging from the ceiling. and i can bite or i can scare or i can crawl, crawl, crawl all day. in the night i am a pile. a pile of unchecked to-do lists, a pile of unanswered questions, a pile of mistakes, a pile of Quit, and a pile that drinks the wine to accompany the flavors of Quit, and a pile that makes ambitious and efficient lists for tomorrow. because tomorrow i will be full of energy, i say. tomorrow i will be efficient and productive and well on my way to perfect mental health. tomorrow i will be a new me and finally be good at Life. tomorrow.
but tomorrow is like today. and today is like yesterday. and yesterday is like tomorrow and i am in a spinning tornado and nothing changes expect when i 'wake up' sporadically throughout the day.
i am between Everything and Nothing. i am between verbose and mute. i am between alive and dead. i am Somwhere and Nowhere. i am between up and down and side to side and noise and silence and Love and debilitating Apathy.
i am between Everything and Nothing. that is where i can be found. that is where i can be lost. between everything and nothing. slowing down to the speed of sound. racing up the beat the grass to the surface, the surface of the life i dont have, the life i failed to design, the life i forget about because instead i am between.

so i watch them walk away. i always remember what they look like when theyre leaving. i can smell when they have begun to rot from the poison of my disorder.
but they were warned. from the beginning, they were warned. every single one, every single time, they were warned.
and my lips have memorized 'goodbye' but my heart never did.