To be (manic) or not to be (manic)…


He tells me the pretty, purple pills have changed me.  I fear he is right.  I am numbed to the zest for life that coursed through my veins only 6 weeks ago.  The insatiable appetite for excess is on a detox it would appear.  I feel diluted to my very core. Robot-like in my functioning.  Faking a smile with a coffee to go.

And so I skipped a few of those lilac buzz-suckers.  Just a few.

This morning I awoke with a tingling in my head, a movement, a flutter within my brain.  Excitement? No. Something more like… life. Vibrancy. Thought. Inquisitiveness. Bubbling to the surface.  A glimmer of my old self battling through the smog of my mind. Smouldering embers ready to re-ignite at the slightest provocation.

What’s the worst that could happen?