I feel like I am about to explode. Last night I kissed a semi-stranger in an art gallery and tonight, with no similar excitement, with no potential for sex or bad decisions really, all I wanted to do was go out and spend hundreds of dollars on clothes. Stores anesthetize the mania: they’re places where, like a toddler, I can lose myself in shiny objects, in wanting something that’s attainable, that’s right in front of me.
The semi-stranger is also an ex drug addict, and I have noticed that I tend to meet people who are addicts or bipolar themselves when I’m manic. It’s like we just find each other.
I don’t know what to do but I’m going to take extra Seroquel and try to calm down. I feel happy and sad all at once, as if I could burst into tears or laughter. It’s not good.