Well, today would have been 7 weeks. Would have been. If I hadn’t bought a carton of ciggarettes last night and immediately smoked them all. (Ok, not all of them… yet.)
I don’t know what made me start again after so long, but I’m completely okay with it (or so I tell myself). I did have a bad week, but it’s not like the past seven weeks have been any better. I’m finding myself either extremely apathetic or irrationally angry lately. Maybe it was from nicotine withdrawals, because last night, I felt “okay” for the first time in a long while.
I put on a front to the rest of the world, pretending I’m bubbly and happy all the time with all of my laughter and sarcasm, but the truth is, most of the time, I feel like… nothing. I don’t feel like I’m nothing, I just don’t feel any strong emotions… unless you count the anger and apathy. I think the only reason I fake it is to make people laugh so they’ll like me, which really makes me a hypocrite because I’m always going on about how I don’t care what people think. I’ve become quite adept at hiding some of the more unseemly facets of my personality.
I cry more lately, but I’m not sad. My tears are silent and indifferent and they come from a deep, dark, hard place for no discernable reason – like water seeping through a crack in stone. I just clench my teeth and quietly weep for a bit and then it goes away and I don’t even think about it. I don’t know why. Probably nothing. Maybe everything.
Maybe I’m just wacked. Actually, there’s no maybe about it.
This post went from an admission that I was smoking again to a psychiatric self-evaluation. Awesome.
Is there such a thing as tripolar disorder? Because I think I have it.