Sunday, March 21, 2010
Like I said...
Since it´s Saturday night and I have decided to stay up late, and I just declared in the post that I published that I would write another one immediately, I am sitting here quite contently with my glass of milk and my cigarette, with the greatest intention to entertain you all to the best of my ability and not be a grumpy old woman like I was earlier, or so I thought. I might be judging myself harshly, but I have high standards to live up to.
I make these standards up myself and I think I´m a good judge of them, seeing as though I´ve been an observer of myself for a long time and know all about what I can get up to and away with. Sometimes I have to call myself to order, especially if nobody else does. After many years of therapy you get wise about these things, and when you start to get into your right mind, all the pieces start to fit into place and you finally see the picture of what you look like. *Oh*, you say, *Is that what I look like? How interesting.* And it turns out that you like yourself! Never mind the pothole you hit a few hours earlier and that made you panic, when all you needed was a cup of coffee and food and a pause for your tired brain.
Yes, those fleeting feelings are a thing to get used to and trick you into thinking there´s a catastrophe around the corner. Your emotions want to take you on a marathon run to another mindset where there is no finish line. I know enough now not to go there, not to tag along with my running shoes on. I know to stay put in place and wait for everything to subside and for peace to return, as it inevitably will. You couldn't have explained that to me two weeks ago. I would have denied it the very existence of it.
You know how a willow tree stands by a stream for hundreds of years, deeply rooted and with it's branches always available to be cut for useful objects? And how gnarly it is and solid and always a fixture of the landscape, unmoving and yet alive? That's how I want to be, like that willow tree, solid and deeply rooted and pondering the things around me in deep silence, letting only the wind be my voice. And I would want to have cows grazing around me to share my existence with and lush grass at the edge of the stream and by my roots.
I was here to entertain you and instead I am waxing poetically and taking psychological dives. I can't help it, that's the way my mind is meandering right now. I've got springtime and butterflies in my head, even though it's dark outside and partly cloudy and only 14 degrees.
Tyke and I don't need to go out anymore. He gets to do his last piddle out back in the flower bed where only the winter blooming jasmine grows, on top of the leafmold that I put there all year round. I've cut back the jasmine, as it was putting out long runners after it bloomed. It's a very invasive bush and I'm not that happy with it. The flower bed is too small for it.
I'm absolutely not allowed to stay up for the night, otherwise I will have to lie about it to my psychiatrist, who does not want me to miss a night of sleep. He's afraid that I'll become hypomanic and although I like that state of being, I will not voluntarily call it upon myself, so in a little while I will take all my nighttime medicines and that ought to make me sleepy enough to go to bed. As a matter of fact, I will get my pajamas on in a little while also, so that I will be prepared to dive into bed at a moment's notice.
The only problem is that I don't feel like going to bed at all, because I'm enjoying the late night and I want this time to last a while longer. I'm completely insulated in my apartment with the heater on and my dog at my feet and the cozy lights on and it's all very comfortable. Why give up such moments as these? I am sure there are a lot of people out there now who are making the night last because they are having a good time, without being called hypomanic. I'm just doing it on my own, but I'd love to have some friends to share the night with.
Tyke is a very good watch dog, especially at night. He starts to bark at any suspicious sound he hears and he has quite a hard bark too. He sounds bigger than he is. Of course, I don't want him barking at midnight because of the neighbors, so I have to keep him quiet, but it does make me feel good that he is alert. I do jump out of my skin, though, when he suddenly barks very loud.
Okay, I'm going to take my medicines and put on my pajamas. It will be the beginning of the nighttime ritual.
Have a good night.