Maybe I was never crazy.

This was from a different hospitalization.

If you weren’t my friend in 2017, that’s good for you. I’d relapsed in all the ways. Everything was wild. Except nothing was, it just seemed that way.

The ordinary makes me cry. It’s important that you know that because I don’t naturally take pleasure in ordinary things. My DNA didn’t struggle to exist for a moment like this to be… bland. It was lucky for me, I guess, that the Chaos I craved was created within me. It compelled me.

When I say the Chaos you might start to imagine rushed and disorganized. That wouldn’t be this kind, no. It was like the way some people like to explain existence. The world. How everything came about with a collision and propulsion in darkness.

It was all darkness in the beginning.

But then they explain the time, so many years that can’t even calculate because the calendar they’d use is based on a savior that can’t exist because the world was born of Chaos, wasn’t it?

Well then, that was born in me, too. But I didn’t have the time or the luxury of a planet being born to float in darkness waiting for life to grow. For green shoots to poke through soil, for the sun to get close enough to warm me. I didn’t have that luxury of time.

Instead, with the mania tuned down to a hum and the IV washing my blood clean of alcohol, shame sat heavy on my mouth. My parents tried to reach me but Chaos is loud. Even in sterile hospitals where all you hear are beeps, it’s loud.

Time has passed. The green shoots through soil, they do make me cry. The ordinary is painful because it’s beautiful in its own right. Reliable, it isn’t exciting unless you realize how trivial and grand it is — what a miracle that can be.

Our own human duality.

So, I’m not chaotic like the stars. Instead I thrive on solid land. The ordinary gravity is humbling, I welcome it.

I thank God for serenity in the calamity. I repent for the tumult I previously required to feel like I was alive.

Now I just pray I can thrive.

In September 2017, I had a manic episode. A change in medications to stabilize my depression ended up with 4-5 days of erratic behavior. I did not sleep. This led to me drinking to try to sleep. Reality became very distorted and I was picked up from Phil’s Coffee in an ambulance and hospitalized. I continued to drink after my release. On October 7th I drank myself into a blackout…

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