Sometimes I miss being sick. On a related note, I would hide my pills and paracetamol to delay the relief from a fever until I absolutely couldn't take it anymore. Being sick was better than just being, and I seem to be doing a lot of the latter lately. But yes, and this I will whisper so no one can hear or judge or notice, I do sometimes miss my old buddy, mental instability.
Maybe it's just a sign of growing older. Or rather, despising growing older. Maybe I just miss saying my age and ending with that cheerful syllable, teen. Now it's all numbers, a counting up to, or down to, the time when I'm no longer young. When the real learning to walk starts, not that (excuse me for how stupid this next part sounds) child's play of toddlers, but actually learning to stand on my own two feet because my face and body and skin, all once filled with glorious collagen and blasting elasticity to make a rubber tree weep in jealousy, they will all be gone. Someday. And someday feels sooner everyday.
But my! When I was a teen, was I a kook! Maybe that's why I miss my debilitating mental disorder and it's frequent visits and former residency. Doesn't make sense otherwise. Because aside from being unable to do anything fun legally, the greatest symptom of my childhood was a mental volatility that could've earned medals (if there were awards for crazy, which there aren't because would that be insane!).
Things have gotten all mixed up, shaken, stirred and wobbled about in my head and I think what I mean is I hate growing older. But my age and my breakdowns have melted together so I can't help missing all those days of misery as well as my skin's lost collagen. One and the same. Same pot, all mixed up already and ready to serve to your dinner guests. That isn't normal, is it? What even is normal, and how the fuck did I somehow end up there?
Downwards is still a direction. And falling down a rabbithole still leads you from point a to b, where b is not bills and adulthood and responsibilities and working and being a competent and functioning member of society. I'm feeling more and more like I'd rather be rolling to the bottom to my sweet spot low point, than marching forward to a steady, stable life where my mood sits still instead of having field days. Because where is the fun in that?