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The more my mood swings, the more I’m convinced it’s rapid cycling.  After yesterday, today I woke in “better spirits”, whateverthefuckthatmeans.  I didn’t feel as worthless as I did at my worst, but I sure as hell wasn’t “Happy Happy Happy”.  I was mostly numb, which is WAAAAYYY better than empty.  So I’ve spent a majority of the day cleaning-and by majority I mean all damn day.  What usually takes me a few hours has taken all day because of my fucked up shoulder.  That sucks.

I talked to my good friend that moved to Lincoln almost all day today.  She’s BP and probably BPD as well.  She also has anxiety and PTSD and probably panxiety, too.  And I miss her lots and tons.  It was great to talk to her.  We are in the “tired of hurting and wanna stop the pain” boat…I just hope the boat is big enough to hold us and our myriad of emotional bullshit.

I’ve listened to THREE different playlists today.  That’s about 8 hours of music.  And I’m now listening to Three Days Grace that I found through the DISCOVER button on Spotify.  I have awesome recommendations that comes from all the music I listen too.  I mean, I like Eric Clapton, BB King, Crywolf, Colbie Caillat, 3 Doors Down, Theory Of A Deadman, Sara Bareilles and Eminem.  You get the picture.  It’s eclectic and random, really.

I’ve been all over the place today-but I haven’t cried, so that’s always a plus.  I was “nice” to DB when he dropped the kids off-even though I secretly performed voodoo on him.  I channeled my inner Zen for peace, but what I got was numb.  Better than the empty feeling I’ve been having.  But I’ve noticed when I’m busy I’m numb, and when I’m not, I think.  And when I think, I feel empty.  Vicious cycle.  I’m up and down and up and down.  I’m irritated by stupid things-but they are HUGE things right now.  I’m forcing myself to eat, even though I wanna varmit anytime I do.  I had a bacon and egg sammy this morning and I couldn’t finish it, so May had it-sans bread.  I had a handful of Pizzeria Pretzel Combos, the last 6 squares of my dark chocolate bar from yesterday, and 2 containers of yogurt.  That’s it.  That is usually breakfast-minus the dark chocolate.  That’s how I know I’m not in a good place.

I used to be an emotional eater.  Happy-eat.  Sad-eat.  Depressed-shoved food down my throat to stifle the pain.  Manic-eat until I explode because I won’t gain a pound.  Now?  The THOUGHT of eating no matter what my emotional state makes me wanna hurl.  I don’t know what made the switch flip…maybe it was the horrid mixed state I was in 3 years ago.  Maybe it was all the shit I went through with DB.. I don’t fucking know, and frankly some days I don’t fucking care.

I just heard a song that made me stop what I was doing, restart it twice and read the lyrics as it played.  I wasn’t filled with an overwhelming feeling of dread or loss.  It was a feeling…damn I gotta google it..hang on.

Ok I’ve found two emotions so far after hearing this song: Relief and comfort.  Yeah THOSE aren’t random aren’t they?  There’s also encouraged, reassured-and here’s a really random synonym-put one’s mind at rest.  And oddly, they all really do.

And after hearing this song…I feel oddly calm and reassured and encouraged and reassured.  It will all work out the way it’s supposed too, the way it’s going to.  “Ask the universe and it will deliver, but you must have faith.”  Thanks, Jim.

I’ll keep asking the universe for that one thing-and maybe the rapid cycling will stop.  Maybe.