I love you: My brain chemistry is a whore edition

a3707443603_10There’s only one thing left to do and that’s worry
The unending concern that I didn’t do enough, say enough, explain enough or simply be enough
In the end, I’ll just be found lacking
Maybe for something that I did, maybe for something that I didn’t do, maybe for something that I could have never done
I realize just how pointless this exercise is, but that hardly stops me from indulging in my own paranoia
I did the best I could
I can truly say that
What I am, what I was capable of, what was bound to come out of my mouth at any given point, I did my best
And maybe that’s what I’m afraid of
That my best, everything I have to offer, the entirety of myself, will simply not be good enough or warrant attention and understanding that I so desperately crave
In the end, I’m just left waiting
Unsure of anything, worried that the worse will befall me, yet again, and I’ll be left in the same position, yet slightly worse off because a portion of my remaining hope has been systemically chipped away
In the end, I can only say that I did what I could and to the best of my ability
What happens now is out of my hands
I have to accept that and be ready to deal with whatever happens as a result
But this doesn’t mean that I’m not still afraid

Part I

Remember how I just wrote a blog about how telling guys that I loved them was a bad idea? Well, I didn’t do the exact same thing again, I think I actually managed to do something worse this time. This time instead of dropping the L word via text, like a coward, I actually messaged someone that I wanted to move away with them somewhere. Did I mention that I’ve known him for less than 3 months?

But don’t worry, this time was totally different! My brain assured me that this was all well and great and I had to talk about my feelings or I was going to explode. After spending most of the day in a state of pre-panic attack, I finally only calmed down when he, quite rightly, informed me that this was a lot of commitment to someone that he had just met. And after he turned me down and my emotions were not running at such a fever pitch and I had a chance to gain some distance on the entire situation, I realized something; this is exactly what I just did, like, a week ago!

Seriously.

Hypomania is no joke, that should already be apparent from my other writings. But I seriously just did something three times in a row without a clue that I was doing it. So apparently my brain chemistry just loves fucking everyone and wants them to know it. In detail! In secret WordPress posts and texts and all other forms of writing. I did let the L word slip in person once (not to the same guy), but it was a whisper, so I think that almost doesn’t count.

My brain chemistry is a whore. A big, lovable whore that just wants everyone to like it and doesn’t care about things like whether or not this is appropriate or even a good idea. It just wants to run wild and free through my personal life and just let all men in the area know how much it loves them. Each and every one of them. Fuck this.

Part II

It’s a few weeks after the events that I just described and I have gained some perspective on it. Yes, my brain chemistry is still a big, wanton harlot. However, for being as out of it as I was, I managed to be pretty coherent and not nearly as bad as I thought. Moreover, I apologized to the person in question and he was pretty clear that he accepted my apology even though he didn’t feel that it was needed.

Overall, no one died. No one was even maimed. While it was an awkward situation, there was no real damage done. But this still doesn’t stop me from wishing that I didn’t keep acting on so many horrendously bad ideas. Also, when is my next psychiatrist appointment?

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