Friday, May 25, 2012
After more than a week at full blown manic mode, I feel myself coming up against the wall. Maybe it is just a touch of fatigue, a bit of a hill on my careening course. I feel it humming behind my eyelids, a specter lurking over my shoulder just beyond the edge of my vision. It taps my shoulder, then hides when I turn to look. I tell myself, "It's nothing, it's nothing." But really, I know better. I know better because I can feel the loneliness creeping back, just a touch, just enough that I have felt the sting of tears after a whole week without weeping. Fatigue making me susceptible to to the pain of rejection, real or imagined. I can feel the gloom of abject loneliness waiting in the wings for nightfall. That will be the sure test, when darkness falls. The beauty of knowing what is pending, seeing that hint of the future, gives me the prescience to do what I can to head off the darkness. If I can avoid wakening the demons I may be able to ride out a day of mild melancholy, revitalize my spirit with sleep, and attack a new day with returned vigor. I know melancholy is the price I pay for mania. But there are times when I wish to defer the payment, put it off, risk added penalties and late fees. I am currently enjoying my rocket ride, my whirlwind, the eruption of fire. I would be sad to see it come to an end before I get to truly blast it through to the extreme. But the specter lurks, just beyond my vision, just out of sight, breathing on my neck with soft, cool puffs. Just enough to raise the fine hairs along my spine. If I can reconnect to the mania, now, I can outdistance the specter, I know I can. This is why addicts continue to chase the dragon, because in reality they are trying to outpace and outdistance their pursuing demons. I do not have to resort to outside influences, chemicals, substances. The influence is in my mind, the chemicals in my brain, the substance courses through my veins. To add outside forces would only end in disastrous carnage. A hazardous chemical reaction. At least I am wise enough to understand this to my very marrow. But still, I feel the specter looming. I choose to think that I am just tired. It's nothing. It's nothing. I am just tired.