I haven’t slept for nearly 48 hours.
My mind is moving faster than I could type or write, even if I were imbued with supernatural powers that could accurately capture this hypergraphia. I am only this manic when I have been off my meds for too many days. It’s going off in a million different directions. Sometimes it is bliss and other times, torture.
If I could only harness this power, this unfathomable 90% of my brain which I am told I do not normally use, I could easily turn on every electronic device and appliance in a hundred mile radius. If I could just focus this seemingly indefatigable energy emanating from my cranium, maybe there would be a little less ozone today.
ADHD writing: that’s what it may be termed. If Hunter S. Thompson can give rise to “gonzo” journalism, I can make way for ADHD mania writing (if I do say so myself, and I just did); I can only hope no one has beaten me to it already, but I bet they have and I don’t have the heart to Google it (so let me enjoy my ignorance; don’t tell me the truth.)
I was having a manic fit from hell this morning. I listened to songs I knew would make me a crying, sobbing wreck (or wretch, more accurately) just to torment myself. I’m a masochist at Soul.
I had my inevitable doctor’s appointment this morning to get my medicine(s) refilled and en route, did a complete psychological 180 and went into hysterics as soon as my butt hit the seat in the waiting room. Unbeknownst to me, Wednesday is “Suboxone” day (opiate dependence drug) at the addiction part of the clinic and the sitting area was brimming with your usual motley crew of undesirables and dregs. I don’t think anyone had bathed or washed their clothes in weeks. Everything about the ambiance seemed dirtier…filthier because of the occupants, belying seemingly sanitary tiles, clean chairs and undefiled magazines. Although I was not there for the Suboxone, I felt as gross and cheap as everyone else looked, although much more intelligent and therefore superior, of course (you may laugh here...or not.)
It began immediately with the morning news, which always has to be “fun” and “perky” and they started right off with this breaking story: “Stock up on Nutella! There’s a hazelnut shortage!” I found this terribly hilarious for no apparent reason whatsoever and had to remove myself from the waiting room. Fun Fact: a sh*tload of hazelnuts are grown in Turkey. Surprised? Me, too. And now you know.
Next newsworthy story: “Man fakes his own death to escape marriage!” I lost it. I bit hard into my knuckles and conjured horrible images (see previous blog titled “Inappropriate Laughter”) to ward off ensuing uproarious giggles and guffaws. You don't necessarily want to laugh like a maniac for no obvious reason in a room full of dope-fiends; we tend to be a serious bunch at times.
Ok, made it through that one without embarrassing myself. What happened next made it clear to me that the gods were having some fun at my expense. A grimy lady (and I use “lady” most lightly) walked in wearing what truly resembled clown pants, and I mean from Barnum and Bailey clown pants; pants too big, colorful, baggy and zig-zaggy in design to be anything else (at least, in my own bizarre world.) Those pants would have given an epileptic a seizure. I was too astonished at first to register the hilarity, but the more I gawked, the funnier the whole scene seemed, especially when the woman who walked in right after her wore the most ridiculously garish shoes I have ever seen in my life. They looked like well-worn insensible shoes that Rainbow-Brite would have worn in the 80’s. I instantly jumped up and ran outside to smoke; I could contain it no longer.
The real clincher was when I walked back in and there’s good ol’ gay as they get George Takei (whom I adore by the way and am in no way mocking) on the morning news talking about getting some accolade from the Emperor of Japan. Again, funny as sh!t for no rational reason and again I must walk out. Had I erupted in laughter every time something struck me funny this morning, I would have seemed every bit the loon I really am.
For the record, I’m back on my meds today and slowly but surely, my mind is slowing down, slacking in its wild, frenetic pace. I am a little closer to “normal” now (thank aforementioned gods.) So I won’t be accidently turning on your dishwasher or hairdryer, at least not today; don’t worry 
P.S. Sorry for any verb tense mistakes; I’ll correct them later! Also, I can poke fun at Suboxone patients because I too have addiction issues and am also having a fun go at myself. AND PlEaSe forgive my two little expletives (I added them for some color.) 
P.P.S. I just looked in the bathroom mirror for the first time today and my hair looks exactly like Jimmy Neutron’s. I wasn’t going for that look but oh, well lol. Random fact; use it as you wish (as Sophia might say.)
