manic now depression…

haven’t been able to write.  the channel ran dry.  i realize, i do have manic-depressive chemical storms.  i always realize this, like it’s something new.  i see my cycles.  the mania is such a great high and the depression such a horrifying low.  i admit, i let the mania full out and run with it, because i write it out and it’s pretty healthy at this point in my life.  i don’t do anything stupid like the olden days.  i like the mania.  but when the depression hits i have to work really hard to not suffer.  wearing the mammoth titanium quartz helps the most.  it’s my new go-to.  and sitting under the sun is a blessing.  so is serving others at my place of work.  and redesigning the jewelry case.  ok, so i spent one night eating my feelings and zoning out to endless veronica mars, but it seemed to actually help, because it was only one night.  if it was two nights, i would slip and then begin to fuck it all up.  i know myself well.  i know how to mandate the depressive cycle.  i tell people how i really feel, most of them.  tends to dissolve the fear, being transparent, and it puts people at ease too, being real…giving them permission to be real, even if you are about ten times more intense.  i try to joke about fake smiles and polly anna disorder.  laughter.  sugar helps in small doses, like a mocha.  luckily i am not one to crave booze, drugging out, fucking strangers, or spending all of my money. it’s exhausting to go through though.  and it’s very very chemical, aka: feels not in my control and forces me to hold reigns really hard to hold…which is good cause i am learning how to master being in control of energy…but i am also humbled, cause i don’t have total control…it does also, have to run it’s course…i also am chemically imbalanced at times, and it is what it is.  i crave my plateau right now, cause my heart is tired…though when in the plateau too long, i long for the mania, and it comes like a faithful muse…and with it, the creative gush, feeling on fire, yoga feels like bliss too, everyone is beautiful, i want to sing to the world, i can hardly sleep, i am queen of my domain, everything is in it’s right place, magic happens.  i love that feeling.  until the crash.  and the way that fucking crash hits every time.  all of the sudden.  split second. out of the blue.  it’s so predictable.  low energy.  nothing feels right or good.  suddenly, who do i think i am, thinking i can write something wonderful.  and why would anyone like me?  and how can i run away and hide?  flat tire monotone voice hits.  i pray my loved ones will put up with me.  and they always do, cause it’s not so bad.  not anymore.  cause i have transformed.  now, i can even make it kind of funny…or endearing.  kind of.  and when i start to spin and feel like cringing, certain friends are always there to tell me i am being neurotic and put things in a pragmatic fashion, which gives comfort and heralds logic to the surface, cutting through the thick delusion of depression voice.  i hate the word depression.  it’s overused,   the feeling of it…feels like shame. self consciousness.  confusion.  anger.  sorrow.  mania is also an outdated word.  it feels like creative inspiration, energy, intense love, giving, beauty, resplendence.  for me.  i know others experience manic depression in many different ways and to varying degrees and need to do a variety of things to help themselves and to each their own.  i don’t get hung up on labels or comparisons. i don’t use therapists or pills and haven’t for twenty years.  i found the tao with my ecosystem.  what work for me, and that might not be what works for you.  who cares.  finding peace means knowing how i roll and rolling with it.  having acceptance and a sense of humor.  being practical about it.  making sure i keep my body active and letting out the feelings right when they occur.  making sure too, to eat plenty of greens and drink lots of coconut water.  sinking into the poetry and myth.  knowing the muse relies on mania.  and mania relies on depression.  and depression relies on the plateau.  you know.  take the judgement off of it.  see the reason.  i am a tropical ecosystem.  or the northwest.  i might be the northwest.  whatever the mind does to understand the internal experience is awesome, so long as growth is taking place.  burning agarwood helps so much.  what a pleasure.  as is wearing vanilla, amber, myrrh, jasmine, and orange on the wrists.  and having these sacred places.  the magical cafe.  sanctuary work place where i feel devotion.  my four of wands yoga studio.  certain bars and restaurants that swell with colored lights and music.  the mysticism of the hill.  the homeless on the street.  a modern myth.  a tale of transformation.  yet so much remains the same at the same time too…