If you've been wondering why I haven't written about myself as much as usual, lately, it's because I can't stand my own company. My mood has been – to say the least – labile. I've managed to work reasonably steadily since Monday but more than once, I've had to resort to the crisis centre at my local hospital for help. The worst has been what the psychiatrists term 'rapid cycling'. Within just a few hours I can zig-zag from being acutely focussed and productive to frantic, self-destructive and unable to cope – then back again, wreaking havoc on everyone (and everything) around me. In between, I'm drained and exhausted.
Medication helps. So does sex. I suspect I do too little of either to sustain their benefits. If I'm not drawing or painting or dealing with the myriad details that clog the intersection of my art and business, I'm in bed. Asleep, I don't have to deal with a damn thing, especially my own damaged self.