Had dinner with Jay Tuesday night. We talked about my instant decay of positive experiences so I noticed on the train ride home when I started to decompress but it hasn’t gone away completely, surprisingly.
There was a moment at dinner that reinforced my identity and gave me a sense of belonging. we were talking about me as a writer, me as a creative, me as a melancholic but lovable person.
I remembered a bit of who I was before my sense of self was entirely hijacked by women.
I also genuinely think I must be bipolar. I can’t imagine any other explanation for being catatonic and suicidal Monday and Tuesday and being breathlessly elated for no reason Thursday and Friday.
Maybe the alcohol caused or masked some blood sugar issues as well. I really should see a physician and psychologist in the new year.
I’ll probably blog my couch surfing adventure this way too now that I think about it. Eventually write a novel of some sort.
Fuck, how do I wrap this all up when I feel like I gained nothing?
Well it gave me a context to start writing about my relationship issues which I’d been ashamed of quite deeply, this really should have been a break-up blog.
I guess I’ll write one after the party sometime so this doesn’t have to be the wrap up just yet.
As always, drinking will give me a sense of certainty which may feel a bit false but still preferable to an all too real sense permanent doubt.