There is something strangely disconcerting about being malcontent.

I feel like there is something more out there...but I have no clue how to reach it. This comes at a time in life where my thought process seems the most stable. I have lost the inability to feel. Not to feel happiness. That comes. Not to feel sadness. That comes too. What I have lost is my ability to be consumed into any one emotion for any length of time. I would imagine, to most bipolar individuals that this would be a good thing. Not for me. Everything is so well thought out now. So put in perspective. So normal. Everything balances. There are no peaks and valleys. I even stopped seeing my psychiatrist because, aside from the medications, I feel I have nothing of value to say. If this is what the medication was supposed to provide, then it has succeeded. Sometimes, I am mournful for the way things used to be, when my life was completely dissheveled and I was a train wreck no one could look away from. I miss my risk taking behaviors, because they made me feel alive. I feel drained of energy now. I am not depressed any longer...just drained. I don't have the energy to be manic and I wonder if that is what these medications are for. Do they simply suck dry the eccentricities? Do they uncomplicate you by making you so deep into a drug induced haze that you feel like everything is just fine? What if everything isn't just fine? What if this is all one giant hallucination and I will only realize that once I stop taking this medicine? I am supressing myself?

A person with cancer would never doubt their ability to seek treatment and get help for their disease. They would never feel guilty about it or wonder if they are doing something wrong for themselves.

So why do I feel so bad about feeling so good?