More often than not, my internal monologue is a tepid mess of contradiction. Depersonalisation and skewed reality aside, I’ve somehow found myself in this place where I have to question everything. Every. Single. Thing.
It’s like a swirling, psychedelic world of pattern and twists and turns up in there, only it’s in greyscale and most definitely not hedonistic.
In this strange and contrary place I have to think all the time. I’m supposed to learn about my own mind but the only resources I have are Google or anything from Amazons mental health section. And, let’s face it, Amazon has many more interesting departments that lead to distract…ooh, nail polish.
I think a lot. Almost every process requires deliberation and the ones that don’t, the ones I can do on relative autopilot like making a cup of tea, end up passing me by because I’m thinking about everything else and so I end up with a syrupy mug of tea with six sugars in that I can’t even remember making. My head is a noisy place, come on down.
If find myself feeling miserable or despairing or terrified that’s when my mental check list pops up in my peripheral like the Microsoft Word smug, jerkily animated paper clip. “It looks like you’re trying to over-think everything again, would you like help with that?” Piss off paper clip.
Step One: Analyse feeling and put in corresponding feelings box.
Step Two: Consider all extenuating factors that could have been contributory; am I overtired or coming down with something, about to have the mother of all periods, ovulating, hungry, stressed, worried, too busy, not busy enough? Is it Monday morning or Friday afternoon, is the wind blowing from a south-easterly direction? Every potential external stressor needs picking through.
Step Three: The ‘I dunno’ stage. Because, simply: eh? Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. Can I just go to bed and sleep until I wake up and it’s all gone?
Step Four: Seriously, can’t I just sleep?
Step Five: Survive until it ends.
I’m supposed to know these things, I need to know these things. I need to get to a place of divine wisdom where I can recognise with swift precision at the first inkling of an inkling, stopping it before it starts. Bipolar zen innit.
Is there a book called Bipolar Zen? *searches Amazon* Ooh, nail polish…