Once you are diagnosed with a mental illness, you constantly find yourself trying to heal yourself or rid yourself of something. Picture yourself sick with the flu and vomiting out the bad and the next day just feeling much, much better.
Well, it doesn’t work like that.
Especially when something’s fucked up in your head. In my case, most of the real hardcore changes came during sobriety.
My first sponsor told me, “The drama will cease at some point and you’re going to miss it.” Smart woman because 1) I didn’t think I had drama! (little did I realize, or does anyone realize when they live a drama-filled life?) 2) she was totally right, I do miss it. As strange as it might sound, sometimes I try to find a reason to cry. I don’t know if that’s a crazy-person thing or just a person-crazy thing. Tonight as I lay in bed and my head is spinning around a million and one ideas (racing thoughts), I think to myself, maybe I’m sad. And I tried to find some tears, and instead all there was was empty.
Am I depressed I thought? No, I had a pretty great day. Maybe I’m manic, that’s why I can’t sleep. I mean, maybe those are possibilities, but I began to dig deeper and what I realized was that I don’t have any drama. I haven’t had true drama in a very long time. Granted, there are things that happen in my band from time to time and at work someone may piss me off, sometimes I get a call from a 1-866 number about a debt I didn’t pay off years ago that is now haunting, but when push comes to shove, my life is a million times better than it ever was years ago.
That can definitely say one thing about me – my life was one fucked up mess if what it is now is heaven compared to let’s say 2007?
However, it does tell me that I am maturing somewhat. As I sit here typing away furiously, my son is passed out snoring next to me, and my stomach hurts because all I put in my stomach was a slice of pepperoni pizza (too lazy to cook tonight), I realize that I am doing something healthy. I am feeling like a complete and total shit, regardless of how things really, truly are (aka fantastic) and I am writing about it. Blogging is nothing but cathartic… for me. In the past, a moment like this probably would have never presented itself because my life was a constant ball of drama, but if I did feel an unknown emotion and didn’t quite know how to handle it – I would cut. I would slice. I would punch my hand into a wall. I would scream. I would yell. I would cry. I would drink. I would smoke. I would take a bunch of pills. But I don’t do it anymore. I write.
Why is it that with the absence of drama, I am going stir crazy? It’s the same type of feeling when you’ve been locked in your house because you haven’t escaped because you’re either broke or snowed in or sick. It’s like my body craves it. My mind is addicted to it. I find myself almost shoplifting from time to time little things from the store so I can get some sort of a high. The void of drama is hurting a piece of me. The insanity part of my being needs to be fed and I am not quite sure how to rid of this feeling. Yes, writing will only hold me over for a few hours until I doze off and wake up tomorrow to the hullabaloo I have created in my life of work and music. More importantly, how do I handle these emotions when I am older and not full of energy? What do I do then?
How do I channel my nostalgia for drama into a healthy appetite for sanity?