The Dips from the Highs
I think I just realized last month that PMS is a thing I experience. As one who doesn't necessarily deal with gender (I like to identify as a-gender because I don't care about it) I forget sometimes that I am medically born a female and thus have a time of month where, unlike the stereotypical crazy woman on sit-coms, I get really emotional and think the world is out to get me.
I relate this with my mental health. Part of me thinks perhaps I should up my dose during PMS? I don't know how drugs work, and yes, this time I'll talk to my doctor before fucking with the dosage. The problem being I don't even know when my period is, so... how can I manage it? ADULT IS HARD.
I've been really happy this last week, having thoughts of my emotional trauma less and less, trying to continue living without and not longing for the mess I left behind. I get to talk to people I love daily, and I try to keep up with my creative projects, for the love and the career. I've had to have some hard discussions, but have also had a pretty clear head about it. So when I start to feel the dip I get concerned about how I'll react.
This is why I sometimes think I'm bi-polar, but like.... very mild. Mostly because I can be that fun, go-lucky, excitable, smart human that my friends know me as, and then I dip so far into being in a place I would hate for others to see me in. In fact, I don't even know how often my best friend has SEEN it. Yes, she's answered the phone call when I'm having a panic attack, but there are few people who have seen me zone out in that dark place. With that it triggers the past with the one person I felt the safest with, until it was no longer a safe space. Having that tilt so quickly left me gasping and running into walls.
I recall a writing meeting way back in probably November, but what are months even, and I just was not in a head space to be around people. My friend convinced me to come out even if it was just to hang. I was not in a place to hang, and even further left drained to participate in any conversation about art. I felt so guilty and terrible that I a) wasted his time and b) he saw me in a place that is not pretty. I was staring out while he typed words into my mini ipad keyboard, his fingers being too big for the buttons.
With that I guess polyamory helps because I can choose who I'm comfortable with showing that part of me, hint, it's no one, but save the good parts for the ones I want. Does that make me a terrible, lying, trash monster? Nom-nom-nom.
I'm so sad thinking about the past (i.e. depression) and feel sick thinking about the future (i.e. anxiety) that I would rather just exist in the present. The problem with that is that it leads to putting me in a box. A box in which I say I'm okay with, a box in which I smile just to make others happy, but I don't say what I'm thinking. I do like to believe that thoughts are always open for change, but then I fear that anyone else in my life will see me as a bastard for changing my mind. And thus the thought of bipolar runs through my mind, because I don't think I've spent one day believing one thing, without changing the thoughts some how. Or is that just how most humans work.
I suppose my fear is saying "I love you" and then someone getting mad when that changes. But... that's life, that's human. I just hope to be able to have that conversation with someone before they disappear forever. Sure, the idea of someone loving you forever is great, but also, if they stopped loving me and it was told to me in a reasonable amount of time without taking advantage of my greatness (isn't it weird to read about how deprecating I am, but also how much I love myself?). I think I'm also afraid of being used. Because if you have me in your life, in a capacity I love you deeply, you'll be drowning in gifts (literal and metaphorical), so I can understand wanting to hold onto that. But, if I ever find out the feelings for me were missing for an unjustified time, I may break.
Seeing as how fragile I am, you can understand why I'm hesitant to get involved with anyone else. I think it's taken a while to recover from my recent heartbreak, though less time than Kit, because I have been able to understand than eventually I will recover. Knowledge is power, yes. And in this case the power that I'm not weak, but just hurting, allows me to be rebuilt stronger... or whatever the fuck that saying is.
It comes down to trust. Whether or not what someone is saying to me about how they feel is true. I have to believe them right? And I always do. Perhaps that's why it hurts so much when I fall.
I sound like some stupid teenage bedside diary, and it makes me want to shit out all the things that turn my stomach until there is nothing left. Then when there's nothing left I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, and hope the time moves by faster.
I know I ramble a lot, and it doesn't make sense, but if you're interested in hearing me vocally ramble, feel free to check out my radio show that airs every other week on Alphabet Radio, The show is called 'Aced It'
And as always, feel free to follow me on the 'gram @Holly_amorous
Oh. Also I have an etsy shop because...