So. It’s June. And I’m wearing my dad’s old sweater and my fuzzy hedgehog slippers. I’m waiting for the weather to catch up to the calender. June is summer, right?

The last couple days, with the bipolar shift in weather (humid, hot, sunny, just last week), makes me… not worry exactly… um. Raises doubts, I guess.

May is apparently classic mood swing time for bipolars. My (former) shrink explained this to me every years, and it’s one of those things that never stuck in my brain. Something about weather patterns and mood. Which actually makes a lot of sense. What doesn’t make sense is why May mood swings wouldn’t happen to me til August or Sept, or not at all, or way before. Basically, I didn’t need a specific month to be nuts. I simply was.

Anyways. The grey weather doesn’t depress me, but I’m not bubbling with joy happy. While I firmly believe having an emotional range is normal… I don’t think I’ve been normal enough to be totally comfortable with having a grey day that matches the grey weather.

Which is also making me incredibly sleepy. Which also makes me… uncomfortable with all the um. non-normalcy I’ve lived through.

I guess what’s also bugging me is that I got talked to about my lack of plans for my trip in two weeks. Um. I have no idea what to write about that. It’s just one of those things that makes me feel like nothing has changed. Which could also be why I’m slightly grumpy today.

I dunno. I guess it’s just one of those days where I am suddenly terrified I’ll wake up from this dream of a beautiful life. This existence is still so new and fragile.

I think I need to go swing in the playground.

 

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