I wasn’t sure what to write today. Not everyday is a harrowing ordeal and not everyday is a million miles a minute, go, go, go. Sometimes the day just is.
In the depths of depression there is a constant voice hammering at you relentlessly. It yells at you, degrading your self confidence and self esteem. It yells that you’re worthless, a black shroud enveloping your mind.
Hypomania has its own voice. It’s frantic and high pitched. It rings in your ears, talking a mile a minute, trying to do all the things all at once. It buzzes, energetic and keening for attention.
And then there is the silence. The periods where neither pole has a hold on your mind. It’s the days where you can hear yourself think. There’s no intruders.
That’s what yesterday was like. Normal. And it’s not as easy to write about normal because it’s not exciting. There’s no opportunity to put on a humorous spin. It just is. When I’m feeling stable everything feels muted.
I’ll think up something better for tomorrow but for now I’m going to sit with my coffee and my breakfast and enjoy the silence because I never know how long it’s going to last.