There are a couple of little girls who live next door to me.

They are sheer joy though one of them swears like a sailor. She says "shit" a lot. I'm okay with that. She can't be more than eight years old but at least she is getting her frustrations out. Hopefully, she won't end up an angry 42 year old woman like I am.

Anyway, I leave my back door askew so I can hear them playing. I like the sound of their giggles and their laughter. I wonder if I was ever that happy as a child and I have to be honest...I don't think I ever was.

I remember being a very morose little girl with a whole shitload of attitude to spare. I didn't play very well with others and I was not good with sharing anything. While most kids played outside, I was content to sit in my room, radio blaring and reading a book. That's what made me happy.

Strangely enough, that is still what makes me happy.

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7:20 pm. I am completely in the throes of a manic episode. My hands are shaking and my thoughts are racing wildly. This is hte only time I cann appreciate dance/techno music at all. It's racing rhythm matches my own and it makes my heart skip a beat. This is bad music for me to be listening to right now and I know this. I am reading a lot of bipolar blogs today too which is also a bad thing to do. I seem to take on other people's manic episodes. They are contagious to me. I had to report to my probation officer today, nice enough lady I suppose but young enough to be my kid/. Love having to report into this woman on a weekly basis, truly. *lick and taste my sarcasm* I am debating whether or not to swallow some xanax to calm this down...but i LOVE this feeling. I feel like raping my poor husband...or someone else's too for that matter. That's not the part that I love...b ut it is part of the racing thoughts. Geez, I am making a lot of spelling/grammar errors right now. Thihs normally drives me insane but right now it is an accurate reflection of what my mind and mty hands are doing. I am swallowing hard because air isn't getting into my lungs fast enough. I'm anxious. I am grinding my teeth. It feels like cocaine without the horrible sting in your nostril. My house is well air conditioned but I am sweating profusely. If I leave this keyboard it will be to go do a mound of laundry or keep reading more people's bipolar blogs so I can get more caught up in this moment.

This is the definition of insanity. Doing something over and over again and expecting different results. This is my life. I am like a hamster in a wheel, running and gettign nowhere fast. I can't seem to outrun myself no matter how manic I get. I feel like I am running far away from my depression when I feel like this...however, what goes WAY the fuck up must fall WAY the hell down and when I finally do crash, God help us all. I will bew in a crippling state of depression the likes that I have seen before but have b een helpless against.

It always prevails.

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7:33 pm/ I took two mgs of xanax.

My son in law is watching "The Shining" in the next room. I think I will go watch it with him. Copmpared to Jack Nicholson's character, I think my mania will seem pretty timid.

'redrum'