I feel split in two.
I walk hand in hand with this chemical burning away in my brain, and when I do I am Captain Sunshine. The inevitable hero - victory at hand and underfoot. I am the eternal optimist, the unning man who knows no surrender. I am your sunken winter sun shedding just enough light over the plains to set the sky on fire. I am a mind open to all, absorbing information wherever it can be found. I am a learning machine. I am Dr. Jekyll woking tirelessly to fill the empty spaces in my mind, to fix the faults I carry with me.
And when this chemical leaves me I am the quintessential pessimist. I am Count Craptastic. I am the cynic nitpicking everycorner of my own existence. I am a mind turned inward, criticizing every empty space Dr. Jekyll has been working to fill. I am Mr. Hyde, working to dismantle hope. I am a monster breeding. I am your lurking lunar nightmare. Eclipse. Backwards. I am a complete lack of energy and hope - lonely, miserable, unhappy because I can't function. I can't take what the universe gives me and turn it into something positive because I don't know how.
I speak, of course, of Adderall. I have ADD, which you likely know if you know me. I have found that there is a definite line between who I am with this help and who I am without, and I feel it is imperative to stitch the tear between these two halves.
So, yeah - I have always had a little resentment towards the fact that I can't function like others can without medication. And today, I am Captain Sunshine again, and that tear doesn't seem to bother me because I'm riding on the side that I like, the side that lays open like a book waiting for the world to smear its ink across my pages.
There is, however, one regret that pesters me no matter who I seem to be.
I cannot seem to be inspired and create at the same time anymore - at least, not how I used to be. Perhaps a lack of a definite source of sorrow bars my creative side. The words are there, the notes, the brushstrokes, what have you - whether I am writing or playing, it seems that I can't interpret and create at the same time. I don't know if this even makes sense, but - it is a very rare occasion as of late for me to be able to take what I am seeing and stylize it into something better - I can't look out my window and turn what I see into words. I can't read music on a page and make it my own - or, to be honest, I can do these things, but they take an immense amount of energy and I am unsure as to why. Maybe I'm just readapting to this balance.
Perhaps it is a process of relearning. I don't know. Maybe I just have to learn how to stitch myself together again.
3 comments:
Oh, the infinite joys of being on the fringes of normal mental functioning! I share your frustration. While this 'disorder' (for lack of a better term) does tend to give you a whoop-ass helping of creativity, it's about as ephemeral as a good day on the stock market lately. Kinda like trying to catch a butterfly on speed.
you'll get back into the swing of things, once you do you'll probably look smug and say something along the lines of 'see, just like riding a bike'
then i'll fibb and say you've said that like 8 times, and you'll be all confused and we'll be back to norm. lolz.
I feel you.
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