Monday, 19 October 2009


I am, as has been pointed out sometimes, someone who sways between moods. I'm ambiently happy, but I swing between gloriously euphoric and melancholy. I've learned to embrace this and just go with the flow. On the days where the sadness starts to swell I don't sit in the corner and rock, but I do allow myself to take things quietly. I withdraw a little but try not to completely shut everyone out. I ignore housework and talk as little as possible.

On the days where the pendulum swings towards the Gleam I try and harness it, breathe it in, divert it like a golden river into channels in the reservoir in my brain that craves ecstatic highs. I can be equally selfish in both extremes. Sadness because I'm protecting myself and happiness because it is so hard to share, not everyone follows the Gleam.

At either extreme I crave music. Matching lyrics and chords to my emotions, letting what I can't say flow out with each chorus. It's my release, my catharsis, my language. I don't often sing along, I just let it absorb through my skin, into my blood. It's how I cope, how I stay balanced.

But some days I can't find my balance. I turned 28 on Thursday and ever since I've felt wobbly. I don't know where it's come from but it's pervasive. My dreams, oh my God the dreams, I wake up and my heart is racing. So intense they take my breath away. And I can't find my music. I can't find my outlet. I'm trying to write it but the words won't come.

I got really quite intoxicated on Saturday night (The Possum happily will take a bottle if a boob is not on offer) andn felt relaxed for the first time since Thursday, my skin stopped crackling and my keel stayed even. But vodka is not a solution I'm willing to embrace. I need to find my music, and relax and unfurl.

I'm not sure if it's some sort of "nearly turning 30" issue or something else. I just feel jumpy. Like a cat before an electrical storm. If you stroked me now there would be sparks.

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