Mania has taken over my life this week. Illusions of grandeur, feeling on stage, blah blah blah. Same old story.
But the thoughts. Like I can read minds, like they can read mine. Not reading minds, per se, like ‘what color am I thinking of’, but saying things without meaning; meaning things without explicitly saying them. My heart pounds. I feel like everyone can see what’s going on in my spinning mind. So I hide. I hide behind my job, behind…what is the saying? ‘Technique is what’s left when passion is gone.’ I’m relying on my ‘technique’: going through the motions, living in routine. Going through the motions, trying not to let it show.
You know, ‘it’. My crazy.
Not wanting attention, feeling like I have a spotlight on me. That craziness.
& I’m on my meds. Have been on the same cocktail for five years. Fuck. Time to see the doc again.