180 degrees

okay, perhaps only 52.

perhaps this makes me weird, but work is often sort of a balm to me. that's exaggerated, but it's true. feeling a sense of purpose and getting things done always fulfills me some.

the weather's been gorgeous the last few days as well. the cats have been well-behaved. and i finally figured out what to the nick for christmas. i abused my free two week trial to napster to download a bunch of Grandmaster Flash and spent the morning cleaning a little and doing the robot around the living room. Dad dropped by and we hit OC for some stromboli. all these things make me happy, in a simple way and those kinds of happy don't make me suspicious. i feel better, and safe and warm and fat..yay!

i want to thank you lot for your kind thoughts, i really do. my moods can turn on a dime, and sometimes do. i'm not out of this funk yet, but at least anymore i'm aware of what's going on, and therefore have some semblance of control. going to take this good turn in myself and try to make it last as long as i can.

and i found this picture on my camera, while cleaning it out in anticipation of a festive holiday photo-shooting spree..

lobster feet

i found another photo that backs up my theory that billy idol and i were perhaps separated at birth. however, there's cropping to be done, and i'm supposed to be dealing with my seasonal sets today. also, i'm halfway through a new skirt. what i'm trying to say, i've a lot of crap to do. i have to get on top of it, finish things, this will all back my burgeoning feel-good.

who can think about paranoia with lobster feet? my anti-psychotics are not the kind of thing i'm proud of, but i'll be damned if they don't help.

anyway, bloggers, thanks. keep your fingers crossed. it's always clearer by light of day, seems, or maybe i can just see through my own (incorrect) convictions. night comes again, damned if it won't, and i'll try just to sleep this evening instead of worrying about things that may or may not even be real. i have to control myself, and as with anything else or anyone else, self-control is difficult. it's not that it's pleasant to slide from medium-okay to paranoiaville, but it's easier to slide than it is to control it, or to try. it's hard to make sense of it, it's hard to not freak out. i'm human, and humans often opt for what's easier, even if the payoff isn't there.

just as with going up, coming down is easy. when i'm headed up, i have to exert control to prevent myself from losing reality, and when it's down, i have to try and control it to keep from crashing. gently gently. this happens maybe twice a year, i'll try and go full circle on my feelings, my moods, i suppose. i've probably touched on all this before, so i'll not bore you again with the same song and dance..if you understand bipolar or are close to someone who is, you'll probably see something familiar here.

i'm gonna be fine, i'm just not gonna be great for a while, and if i can be content with that, if i can be gentle and firm with myself, then that's enough. it's still hard. i'm not looking for sympathy, i'm trying to be open with (the infinite) you, and myself. i need these logs of mine to track myself and find connections.

anyway, i'm off to get ready for retail christmas shenanigans.