bipolar disorder, apologies and emotional purging...

upon arrival: happy-not-quite-giddy...but apparently that was to be
short-lived.

She wondered why she reacted so strongly to the words of others when
she had been feeling so strong only moments before. ovulating obviously but
more than that. casual words negate relationships, negate feelings, negate years of belief.

She loved before. Now she's not so sure how. So she does what she can,
however pitiful the effort; however short-lived the imaginary relationship
may be. However much she may give without getting anything back. She's
better now then she was then - slightly less imaginary are her
relationships. even a genuine friednship or two. And some of those
imagined may even be realized - who knows? Who can say what's real and what
isn't?

But still... Imaginary relationships don't result in bruising you
see... except maybe to the ego, the heart, the soul. Invisible wounds no one
can see.

best kind...as they say...but she's pretty sure they don't mean it that
way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was young they called me Coppertop (when the big Duracel Battery
marketing campaign came out) and it morphed as a teen into other
slightly more perverse names - boys trying to be funny. I was also known as
Carrot top, Red, Freckled Carrot, The Redness, so many more because of my red
hair and freckles... I hated most of them... in university they called me
Caw (a hated nickname I will never explain), and Lola, still Red (always Red I
think), T. (although I think it was Tee then), and one special someone
still calls me the Redness on occasion. Now they call me T. - alot of them
anyway. My Mom calls me Pumpkin.

I think I know now when someone calls me one of these names because
they love me and when it's just in jest... I have a new one - a recently
acquired friend and collegue calls me Tan Tan - I don't think anyone
else could get away with it but he does. And people still call me T. I sign
my emails and Christmas cards (and in the olde days, my letters and notes)
that way... laziness really but I guess I did bring it on myself (although
I'm quite sure most of the people who call me T. now had never had a
written communication from me ever before they started to call me that).

I don't mind it - in fact, I like it quite a bit. But we never pick
nicknames for ourselves... people pick them for us. Usually because
they think enough of us to want an endearment of sorts.

I've been calling a friend by just such an endearment (one I didn't
come up with) but I think he kinda hates it so I'm never going to do it again.
And I'm sorry if it bugged him. But it was an endearment - please know that.

But I just wanted to set the record straight on mine: call me T. if you
want to. I like it. Or call me by name... or for that matter come up with
something else - if it sticks - what ev's. I don't mind.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't know any other way to be. I'm sorry. Take it or leave it. I am
one big messy package. Mostly I think it's the good kind - like a present.
But parts of it are troublesome, like a puppy who pees on the carpet.