I went to see Puddles Pity Party. It was moderately fun.

What? I’ve been silent for a while? Well who asked you, buddy?

It has been a typical hypomanic spring/summer so far. I am struggling with writing this, but The whole point of this blog is keeping track of my moods and the struggles so struggling is actually pretty much part of the plan. I am going to Oakland tomorrow night/tonight if you’re already past midnight. I have some plans and some friends to see but most of the time I have free to do whatever I feel like doing.

C is taking care of the dogs, she’s a dear and very well loved in this household. L and D are graciously taking me in for the weekend, and I look forward to letting L sweep me away to the Alamo Drafthouse for a Mr.Rogers documentary. I’m meeting people at Merchants (you’re invited) on Friday night, and going to a BBQ on Saturday.

And all I want to do is scream because the world is scary and it’s my fault.

Bipolar is a big fat stupid ugly smelly stinky rotten evil bully. It beats you up and shakes you upside down for your lunch money. (In this metaphor, obviously, lunch money is sanity.) Bipolar makes fun of you until you cry over and over. Let’s be perfectly clear about that. And the only way to deal with bullies is to give in or, even better, make the jokes faster and funnier than they can. I’ve learned how to do that in regards to my hand, sure, but lately I’ve had no sense of humor about my brain.

This is my predicament.

In a lot of really significant ways, what I’m going through is in no way funny. I am holding on as best I can but there are some serious waves on the ocean, no matter how good I know how to sail my ship. On the other hand it’s pretty necessary to make jokes because if I don’t I’m going to alienate everyone that I love. Sometimes you have to throw up a hand, unique as it may be, and let everyone know you’re still floating/treading water.

But I can’t think of anything really funny or pithy to say. This is exhausting. I want to curl up in bed and cry, but those damn lithium pills make it downright impossible. I’m so sick of being sick.

A trip to Oakland might be just the thing for me.

Goodnight my dear reader.