The physical manifestation of darkness begins about a centimeter behind the skin where the top of ones nose meets the forehead. It’s a dizzy empty feeling that’s concentrated in one spot, but that has a speckled aura. It’s as though electrons are circling the atom. A tiny spot of energy that could erupt into something curious and dangerous spontaneously.
I spent the week as ‘Up Girl’ and ‘Down Girl’ resulting in my father asking me on my ‘up’ day if I had changed my medication because suddenly I was productive, up early and in a good mood. Unfortunately that was only for one day and since then I’ve been a mope whose been outrageously productive, but miserable.
My obsessive thoughts are crawling their way back into my waking life. It’s been a while since I’ve lived in terror of something. Currently I’ve got an intense fear that house centipedes or spiders are crawling into my food and drink while I’m not looking or sitting in the dark or another room. I split a salad with my dad the other day, who works from home, and got a call just as I was fixing his plate. Instead of leaving it when I was finished I stood there for about five minutes watching it to make sure nothing crawled in from the counter. I got aggravated and wrapped the plate with plastic wrap like a mummy and went about the rest of my day. Gotta love OCD.
Story time – In the beginning: Unease
Yesterday I went to see the movie Gone Girl. It’s based off the novel by Gillian Flynn which I’ve read and what really made the movie so well done was that she wrote the screenplay. I had to fight my inner impulsive twelve-year-old girl who wanted to excuse myself and leave without any explanation. Everything I said and giggled at was forced. I was a world-class actress.
Chris, his sister and her husband and his mom and step-dad all attended the movie with me. It was planned earlier in the week and I was looking forward to it. Then Chris’ attitude took a drastic dip a few days ago. We haven’t spoken more than a few words electronically in three days now. As we met up at the movie, he didn’t look at me once. It feels like something isn’t right. Something so big it would spin me out of control and make me yearn for the comfort of the hospital. I can smell the excitement of another woman on him, the faint scent of the burning that will char my soul if it’s true. Something new and exciting to distract him from his miserable mundane life. It just reeks of something he’s feeling guilty about. Something he knows that if I know, will hurt me. Maybe he’s putting it off, maybe he’s figuring out a way to say it. Maybe it’s nothing at all.
In the end: Instability
I was so emotionally withdrawn and physically distressed because of the tension in the air (I had my arms folded and squeezed myself so tight I lost feeling in my fingers by the end) that after I peeled away in the parking lot and got into my car I was able to breathe again. I wasn’t feeling myself though. I was more withdrawn than I have been in ages. The ride home was like a lucid dream. As I pulled up to my quiet street I felt a surge. It’s something I’ve felt before, the physical manifestation of darkness. It fed on my emotions and before I knew it I punched the gas and glided down the side of the street with no parked cars, it was inviting. I took a left turn down another street without knowing for sure if another car was coming (which was grossly exciting and something risky I wanted to try), then another left, and another, letting go of the gas entirely and feeling the car slow. After my little fit of idiocy was over I parked and went inside, feeling that my impulses had been fulfilled.
Today I’ve been lethargic and mild mannered.
Semi-Spoilers of Gone Girl psyche:
I wondered on the way home last night if Amy Elliot Dunne of Gone Girl was just manipulative and selfish or if she was mentally ill. If so, what? Could I see myself in a manic state doing what she did? Would I even need to be in a manic state if I was that devoted to my own cause? I surely can see myself having the thoughts. Everyone I know with bipolar or obsessive compulsive disorder (of which I myself have both) have had what I will casually call ‘insane’ thoughts whether or not they want them or would truly go through with them (at some point or another of their mentally ill career). Have you? If I were to be able to psychoanalyze Amy as a professional would I have empathy? I think in any case she’s brilliant and a survivor. Dangerous though? Any insight is welcome via comment (marked spoiler) or e-mail. You are some very intelligent and insightful bloggers, and I’d love to hear your opinions.