I’m feeling mildly manic these days. Overwhelmed and a little out of control.

I’m in a period of transition, more so than the attitude and intentional lifestyle of change I normally operate within. This transition isn’t completely within my control but will completely impact the rest of my life. And despite not being in control, I still have to make permanent decisions.

I’m not handling this particularly well.

I’m dissociating.

Dissociation is like a tornado. Everything is spinning around me – thoughts, sounds, reality. What’s real? What’s important?

My personal space is absolute chaos; my home is a mess of clutter and projects and cat hair and kid crumbs; my desk has enough extra space for my coffee cup; the laundry is piling up, the kid needs a bath, I can’t remember to water the garden even though it’s literally in my house in one of the four rooms on the main floor because it’s hard to access because we’re operating on a “paths through the shit piled up in each room” model. I’m missing deadlines, I’m over-committing, I’m scheduling every available minute that I can and spending the rest scrolling, thinking about what I should be doing, and spending money I need to be saving.

I’m in the middle of at least 6 books I cannot finish. My project whiteboard is filled with projects I cannot finish. Finishing is for responsible people and I am not one of those right now.

I’m not sleeping well and my body hurts. I either don’t eat at all or I can’t stop. My patience is short with my child. I have no motivation to get anything done.

This reads like depression but it doesn’t feel quite like it.

I feel filled with power I can’t reach and can’t harness. My ego is inflated but situated behind some kind of haze I can’t see clearly through. A strange dichotomy of strength and weakness; of having and not having; of being and not being. Of feeling both young and fresh but also old and dated; both beautiful and undesirable; both wise and naive. Both okay and decidedly not okay.

Dissociating while depressed is one thing and it sucks; but it feels protective and not particularly dangerous (for me). Dissociating while manic is legit scary because it allows a disconnect between myself and my decisions. I feel far more in control when I’m low than when I’m high.

It’s all a bit much, this tornado around me. Clicking my heels and wishing isn’t going to be enough to get back to myself.