Jul 6, 2011

Drunken. Disturbed. Deranged.

It's mental, the title, but I can't figure what else describes the state I’m in. Some say it's scary, I say it's fun. I don't mind the mood swings. The silliest of things will cheer me up during the dullest of moments. Sure these silly things are hard to find on a tough day, but they do appear...just like a bright ray of sunshine every morning. All you have to do is spot it. And that's what matters.

The past few days, weeks, even months, have been a blur. Work has taken over my life. I may say I don't care, but I do. I care more than I should. I care enough to lose sleep over a missing word here and there. I care enough to show up even if I'm feeling sick. I care enough to stay back every single day. Not like it gets in the way. I'd rather slave away than socialise, because I don't have to wear a fake smile and passable clothes for my work date - my beloved computer. I can sulk and grunt and scream at the machine, but it still works for me. Now isn't this the ideal boyfriend!

Let's begin with the drunken bit. I may enjoy the occasional drink or 10, but I'm not an alcoholic. Maybe, mentally. Everyday, I wish I could kick back and have a drink. I can't help but want one, given that my mind is on a roller-coaster ride every single day. By the end of the day, I am so caught up with wracking my brains every 15 minutes, it's difficult to stop. No wonder I'm losing sleep. And hair. I wish it would make me shed some pounds though. All that thinking just make me long for comfort food, and before you know it, a deliciously sinful snack is on my table. Just a snack, no alcohol. That appears on the table when I'm far, far away from work. I dare not be drunk at work, I'm afraid I might say or do something others will regret. I won’t regret it, on the contrary, it'd be nice to get it off my chest :)

There's a disturbed side to every human being. Some hide it carefully, some can't help but show it. I know I'm disturbed when I watch Beauty and the Beast and wonder why Disney promotes bestiality. I know I'm disturbed when I'm having a serious conversation with someone while misinterpreting every other sentence they say and giggling silently over it. But that's just me. I'm sure I have Bipolar Disorder. But it fuels my mind, makes me come up with absurd ideas, and that works for me. A normal life would've killed me by now.

The other day, I was told to 'get more serious'. Had someone said this to me a few years ago, I'd have laughed in their face, flipped the bird and walked out. Things have obviously changed. I thought, why not. Let's give it a shot. So, I dressed more seriously to work. I tried not to abuse. I tried not to joke around with colleagues and focus on my work. You know how it helped? IT DEPRESSED ME!!! I learnt a tough lesson that week - Never ever change yourself just because someone else thinks you aren't good enough. If they can't accept you for the way you are, too bad for them.

I just realised this post sounds abnormally serious. Damn, I have to end this right now. Adios!