An hour ago feeling the crush of humanity set my teeth on edge. Ten minutes ago, choosing international diplomacy as a career made perfect sense. A week ago I was sure shopping would cure me. I did not need to pick up mental health in a bottle at the drug store; I needed a purse. An outrageously expensive frivolous thing that was too small--or too big-- in a color that went with nothing. Last week managing my mood disorder did not include the latest pharmaceutical wonder but a teeny purple paisley purse with a long lime green strap and a zebra print cell phone holder.
These thoughts make no sense - Now. However, at the time the images were coming too furious to edit them for something as mundane as sense. As each thought ended, another tripped over it to get out. One part of me knew mood stabilizers helped, another part was sure the road to sanity was paved with handbags. Double-blind testing may have proven drugs work but all I could think was: Have they ever done a double-blind study on the positive effects of teeny purple paisley purses with long lime green straps and zebra print cell phone holders?
These thoughts make exquisite sense when I have them. The jumble of conflicting ideas feel right. New ways to see the world flow from a great bipolar black hole somewhere inside. When people ask where they come from I tell them it’s a lot like the Big Bang theory. They just come …and keep coming. I figure if people are ready to accept that the universe sprang from nothing, than my effervescing thoughts should be easy to swallow.
Even as I use the Big Bang as a model I worry that it might be a little too close for comfort. Some models of the Big Bang do not have the universe expanding infinitely. Some have it reaching maximum expansion and than collapsing on itself. Are there is a maximum number of thoughts a brain can churn out at one time? As limitless as my thoughts feel I wonder if I am going to reach the point of maximum expansion and than implode.
One of the original Star Trek episodes illustrated this point. Harry Mudd and his beautiful female androids capture the away-team. Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock devise an escape plan; they will feed Harry Mudd’s beauties so many illogical thoughts that they melt down.
First, the androids got a quizzical look, than they tried to make sense of the thoughts coming at them. The next thing you saw was smoke coming out of their necks and in the end their heads lay inert at an unnatural angle on a shoulder; blank eyes open.
Will that happen to me one day? International diplomat. Thoughts of buying a teeny purple paisley purse with a long lime green strap and a zebra print cell phone holder. Writing a bipolar cookbook in my mind while cleaning my bathroom… and doing the laundry. All the while wondering if there really is a difference between detergents which I need to buy at the grocery store…and oh yeah…cheese too…but not regular American- the 2% American…and is that really low-fat or does it just seem low-fat because…well… labels are just so misleading…..And, oh yeah…so is advertising for that matter-so it’s a good thing that I can be an international diplomat because I am sure that as an international diplomat I can do something about deceptive advertising-Oh!-Was the dryer buzzer?….cause-if-it-was-the dryer-buzzer-I-don’t-want-the-clothes-to-wrinkle- and-Ohdarn-Ishouldhaveboughtthatsprayforwrinkles-andohyeah-macaroniandcheese-Ineedtoaddmacandcheesetothebipolarcookbook-andohno- Ihaveameetingwithmyson’steacher-and-howwillIevergetthroughthat-andstillseemnormaland….
That’s exactly how it started on Star Trek. Which thought will be the one that gives me a quizzical look? The purse? The new career in diplomacy? Will the last straw be a thought about 2% cheese? Will puffs of smoke come out my neck after I have the bipolar cookbook half written in my head? Will the last thing I think about be fabric softener? Will it be the zebra print cell phone holder that leaves my head resting sideways on one shoulder and my open eyes staring blankly into the bipolar black hole?
Captain Kirk would be so proud.
©February 2005 All material is the sole property of the author and my not be reproduced without written permission.
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