On a detox walk through a Glendale Park over sidewalk chalk someone wrote in red “start over”

Title from “Cleanse Song.”  I’m quoting too much Bright Eyes lately.

I hate to post this because people always take things the wrong way.  People always look too much into things and think there’s problems when there’s not.  You can’t say it’s not a problem because it just makes people think there really is.  So, before I talk about last night let me say:  there’s not a problem.  Seriously.

Every six months or so I get this itch to act like I’m 20 again.  Meaning take drugs, drink a lot, or party all night.  Just do something so I don’t look around at my life and wonder where my old life went.  I have such an identity crisis issue with my life sometimes.  I love everything I have, truly.  I am grateful for it all.  But sometimes…I wonder how I got here.  The girl who used to think marriage was awful, that she’d never have kids, that she’s never be able to keep a job…here she is a wife, mother, and long time employee.  And sometimes my sick head can’t deal with the normalcy of it all.

So sometimes (read every six months like clockwork), I do stupid things.  It’s not an addiction, well at least not a physical one.  I can’t see anyone who drinks once every six months being labeled an alcoholic, so I don’t think it should carry over to any other substance.

The thing about just about anything you take to escape reality is that once the honeymoon phase of it all is over, most of them suck.  You drink too much, you throw up a lot.  You do too many drugs, you look and feel cracked out.  Sometimes you throw up on those too.  You smoke too much, you become a giggly, stupid mess.  Most of them can kill you in large doses, sometimes small if you mix wrong.

It’s all stupid, really.  But there’s a pull of how great it used to be, how nice it was to get away from it all, how you can escape all the shit and have fun, be happy, be whatever it is that these things make you feel.

So sometimes I’m stupid.  Last night I was stupid.  The normal got to me.  I don’t handle normal too well.  It’s too foreign.  It’s something in me I don’t understand.  I’ve been crazy my whole life.  These normal times I have, they don’t make any sense to me.  I don’t know what to do with them.  I need to escape from them as much I do deep depression or manic psychosis.

But see, the honeymoon phase of drugs and alcohol has long since passed for me.  I started drinking before I turned 13.  I started on prescription drug abuse before 15.  I started on harder things around 21.  I drink maybe once a year now.  It holds no appeal.  I leave prescriptions alone because I don’t want to be cut off from what I need for my actual problems.  Why I mess with harder things still eludes me really.

So last night, I took a pill.  My old friend.  Something to get me away from all the normal I can’t deal with.  My normal life, my normal mood, this foreign normal me.  Such an odd concept to take something to escape a normal life.

For about four hours, I felt a little hypomanic…like I took too much Adderall.  That part was kinda okay.  It wasn’t the feeling I wanted or remembered from my early 20s, but it wasn’t the worst way to spend a few hours.  My heart raced, which I hate, but other than that it was like a pleasant hypomanic I never really get from my crazy alone.

After that, I felt like shit.  I was shaking and cold and felt sick.  This is the part where I say to myself “why do I do these things to myself?”  I never have an answer.  Well, I guess I do as stated above.  But at the time I just think about how stupid I am.  I say to myself that I’m done.  Usually I mean it…for six months.

But this time I think I mean it because the day after I still feel done.  The rush isn’t there anymore.  The euphoria is gone.  The joy of it all is gone.  All that’s left is feeling awful and risk.  Risk of trouble at home, trouble at work.  Ruining everything good I have.  It’s not worth it for a shit high, for any high really.

So I’m done.

But if I’m done…how do I deal with the out of body experience that is this semi-normal life I’ve managed to create?

It’s such a bizarre problem to have – building normalcy and feeling out of place within it.  Like I don’t deserve it, like it’s not me.

I think that therapy might be a good idea after all.  I really need to learn how to deal with some things without popping a pill for every problem I could ever think of.

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About Kira

How do you say "I hate the about me section" without sounding cliche? I haven't found a way yet, so instead you'll now be subjected to random bits of info so you at least know what the blog is about. I'm a 26 year old wife and fairly new mom trying to make a life for myself and my family. These things should be run of the mill, but alas, I have Bipolar (amongst other diagnoses that I have long since lost track of). So here I am, trying to juggle a professional career, marriage, motherhood...and my own general crazy. All the rest of the "about me" sordid details will have to come in time, but the bottom line is that I need somewhere to vent that makes me feel like I'm being heard (even if no one ever reads this) and if along the way I can help another person or two then all the better. **Full Disclaimer** For the record, Kira is not my real name. Pretty much everyone I know is aware of all of my issues, but I do have a career and such and need to keep some level of privacy due to that. And, well, I'm paranoid. View all posts by Kira

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