Two sides

So, latest thing is two distinct sides - the depressed and the vaguely manic.

The vaguely manic is prevailing when I'm around others most of the time, and then about 30 minutes after I'm alone, THWACK, we are back to the crushing brain fog/depressed/hurt.

This schism between me and me is causing me angst as I have no idea which is the proper current mood, and which is the slightly fake mood I'm hiding behind. Am I hiding behind being a bouncier version of my cheerful energetic self? Or am I hiding behind a utterly depressed version which is too difficult to deal with?

This huge chasm between me at one point and me at another point fills me with dread. I can't keep jumping between the two - eventually I'll get stuck on one side, or fall down the hole (and who knows what lies there.)

If the vaguely manic is some way my defence against letting people in, then presumably it can't last forever. Am I tricking myself into being happy? Lies never last. I've found that out before.

The musician and the mathematician. Two sides of me.
The teacher and the student. Two sides of me.
The responsible "thrives in a crisis" persona and the person unable to motivate self to get up in the morning. Two sides of me.



I can deal with being two different people for quite a lot of the time. But when one side is wanting to self-destruct but simply not having the motivation or the energy to do anything, and one side is bouncing off the walls I fear the worst. The vaguely manic is being held back by aching joints, otherwise I would have gone on another outing today for a long muddy walk. Which is fairly safe, but would have led to far more aching now.
However, I fear the energy and the self-destructing wishes are going to coincide. I stocked up my first aid supplies today having run down all the supplies I had from 18 months ago. Admittedly at the moment I'm using first aid stuff for non-self-inflicted injuries/preventing my hands from shredding with the splints for my wrists. I had forgotten what it felt like to stand in a queue at the pharmacy with 20 pounds worth of wound care supplies in my hands. The "must not make eye contact or look unhinged" thoughts with the person at the till. It still fills me with the same feelings as it did when it was a more regular occurrence.



I'll be fine. I always am. The highs and the lows will even out, the chasm will fill and I'll get back to an even keel again. I won't try to do anything drastic, I'll sit thinking about it before deciding against it. Just sometimes, just sometimes the what ifs led me down dark paths I wish not to go down, let alone plan.