#2: like fresh squeezed orange juice
Hello.
I’ve started publishing to a journal again. It’s been unexpected but fun. Sometimes I find myself on the office floor late at night, the candle flickering behind me and my mind buzzing buzzing buzzing, sleep being an impossible reach. I do eventually sleep though, because I know it’s good for me.
Anyways, I talk about that more below, in a post I shared a few weeks ago on chlobelleo, which is my hub for creating and writing and making and thinking and doing. It’s a whole mix of everything, and even though I’m still building it out, I do know that I’ll keep writing here (and there)…
As far as here, this is what you expect from me: a letter (if you like) will slip into your inbox now and again, filled with musings on mental health, overall well-being, things I find inspiring or interesting, and otherwise.
Now here’s some fresh squeezed orange juice. I hope you enjoy!
When I lean slightly to the right, and back an inch, I can see the full moon from my spot on the floor. When I turn back to my computer, the glare presses harshly against my face, and I run around in my mind to catch the ideas that appear to be running away from me.
My mind is speeding up: I can recognize this now from the way my interactions with the world go from soft to sharp. From relaxed to sudden. I can’t believe that I didn’t notice this before. Maybe I did notice it. Maybe I just didn’t do anything about it. Back to my ideas: I have lots of them. They aren’t well shaped, or shaped at all. They’re more like these feelings that float around me. Sometimes I grab them and try to bring a life to their blob-like existence, other times I let them float by, wondering if that’s the last time I’ll ever see them.
I’m telling myself that writing this is pointless. That because of my reluctance to use social media right now, that it is likely no one will see this. But I don’t think that’s why I’m writing this. It’s certainly true that I wan’t to be seen and loved and praised for what I do. Don’t we all in one way or another? I mean, we might not realize it, but we would certainly miss it if it no longer happened. I’m certain of that. And yes, this is all very biased and all heavily-opinion based (no facts here), but I do try to think about why we do something in the first place.
After being diagnosed with Bipolar at the end of July, I had no desire whatsoever to put anything into the world. It wasn’t the first time I felt that way, but it was more acute. Likely because I was now, thanks to a proper diagnosis, starkly aware of my behaviors, habits, moods, cycles, and so on. They were all heavily weighted in either creating like mad and putting it all in the world, or doing absolutely nothing and feeling altogether angry and numb to everything and everyone around me.
There were (and possibly still are, to a lesser degree) only two phases that I find myself in. The up, and the down. That said, there is that sliver of a phase where everything explodes. That’s the phase I’m most scared of: it’s less likely to happen, but it pushes me further and further away from the up, and getting back up from the fall is impossibly hard and lonely. Not lonely because I don’t have anyone (I am lucky enough to have a lot of support), lonely because that’s just what it feels like, and without medication, there was no convincing myself otherwise.
I always tell myself that I have to have a reason. But what if I just want to do something? What if I want to write? Writing right now feels like drinking fresh squeezed orange juice for the first time, which is really just a round-about way of saying: I want more.
But I am afraid of the sticky mess of too much. I want to be useful, and my ideas, I think, are useful. I’m just afraid of using them. I feel like I’m at the starting line of a race, and even though they tell me I can take it easy and walk, all I want to do is run, sprint, and go absolutely wild. What it comes down to is trusting myself, and I know that trusting myself is going to take time, and I know that the ideas that want to stick around, will. And I also know that it’s ok to get excited, and it’s ok to cycle through ups and downs, Bipolar aside. I know that medication didn’t rid me of them. I know that I will likely be navigating them my entire life, but I also know that yes, those big ideas are likely amazing, life changing even, but so are the little ones. The ones that you pay no mind to as you leap toward the fireworks.
And lastly, I know that even though this article just feels like a giant exhale, or maybe more accurately, a giant sob, isn’t it remarkable that we live in a world where we can create these little online spaces for us to exhale and sob into? And the best part is: you don’t have to read this, just as I don’t have to read any article that I have no interest in reading. Though if you’ve reached this point, you likely did read this, of which I am glad, and grateful (and a little surprised).
Anyways, the moon is higher now, and the candle I’ve been burning all day is ready to be put out (both figuratively & metaphorically). I am glad I, on a whim, came here. I was going to journal in my notebook, but instead journaled here. Or something like that. I really don’t know what you would call this, but once again, that doesn’t really matter: I wanted to be here, so here I am, and in whatever form feels best.
Some random things before I pop off: I am officially a fan of Sally Rooney, specifically her writing style. I can see why it might not be for everyone (it all kind of just bleeds into itself). Her most recent book is thoroughly enjoyable. Though maybe you disagree, in which case maybe we better not talk about it. I also love The Isolation Journals, founded by the incredible Suleika Jaouad. My friend told my about it a year or so ago. I’m so glad she did.
It’s been wonderful. I hope to be back soon, that is unless I hit another low point in my cycle. If that’s the case, I’ll see you when I see you (though I guess that’s true either way).
With love,
Chloe
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