F.E.A.R.

I love this. I've heard the first version before, but never the second:

Fear: Fuck everything and run.

Or

Fear: Face everything and recover.

I'm on version one. I'm trying to run. Well, I'm not. My sponsor says bring your body and your mind will follow. My body is hitting two meetings a day and walking on the other side of the street when I see a bar or a liquor store. My body is drinking diet Coke and taking its meds on time. My body had cookies for lunch.

My brain is screaming: "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING!? RUN!!!"

I'm feeling a little crazy right now. I'm kinda moving moment by moment between really high and really low. It's called rapid cycling, which who knows if that's what it really is, but let's go with it for the sake of the post. So I'm up one minute - mind racing, can't think, can't eat, want to smoke like a mad woman. I feel like my skin is crawling and my eyes are the size of dinner plates. I see trails (like when you're on acid) behind moving things like vehicles. The lights in my office are WAY too bright, and all the colors are vibrant.

Then all of a sudden I feel like I need to crawl under my desk and ball my little eyes out. I feel like San Francisco when the fog comes crawling up over the Richmond district and envelops the rest of the City slowly but surely. I feel like I'm the Financial District; watching it come for me and not being able to do anything because I'm fixed in place like a 20-story building.

Yep. Manic-depression is fun. Good times. So this has been my day. I woke up in the fog, rolled around in crazy, slipped into crazy with tears, and now I'm just confused. I think I'm going to go home, take a sleeping pill, and sleep till tomorrow morning. If I sleep, it'll all go away, right?