I was once accused of being addicted to drama. Okay, actually was accused of it more than a few times. I denied it then, and deny it now. But none the less, I find life is more exciting with the unpredictability of tumultuous emotions, random power surges, near misses with catastrophe, the warm touch of chaos, the frigid hand of Melancholy, the fire of Mania, and don't forget my Demons that wait in the wing for their cue. Add a second personality into the mix and what is a fragile balance quickly becomes a tightrope act without a net. And I like it that way. The frisson of danger that lurks just beneath the surface. Under my surface. Just under the skin, the potential for cataclysmic event, maelstrom, whirlwind. The whirlwind has dominated these last few months, propelling me through life, carried in a vortex that is only just barely within my control. It is exciting, the power, danger, chaos, lunacy. Do I seek it? No. It finds me. But I do not discourage it. Few can understand the thrill of the epic coaster ride within my own head. Few would know and understand the gamut of emotions that can roil through my body from quaking panic to joyous hysterics to weeping melancholy to rampant mania. Few would understand the appeal of this leap from one extreme to the next. Most would be quick to medicate it down to a soothing beige. True, I am on meds and supplements, but mostly to keep from teetering over the edge and falling too deep into the abyss. It is not to take the wild colors from my life, to drain the verve, steal the electricity. Yes, there are days of grey. Days when the color has been leached from my vision. But I know it is temporary. I know that all I need do is wait for Melancholy to loose its grip, and soon enough Mania will be back in blazing technicolor. Even the negative, the trembling, panicked, gut wrenching, weeping desperation has an intensity that I can relish in the afterglow.
Am I addicted to drama? Only if I can say I am addicted to life. Addicted to My Life. Because what is Life without Drama? It is a half-life, a token of reality, a smear of emotion. I am not addicted to drama, but I will feast of it with both hands, willingly. I will feast of My Life, gluttonously, for it is a feast. A glorious, unimaginable feast.