(is it normal to still see my deleted blog post even if it says it's deleted? I wrote it at like 3 am and I deleted it 20 minutes later cuz I felt weird saying that stuff...)

Today I went and saw Avenue Q with my best friend Heather, who I'm still on the fence about breaking away from even though I don't like the way she acted 3 weeks ago and the fact she seems fine about me and Hattie again, but today even when I started play-acting ghetto (I do this with Hattie a lot because he's black and hates ghetto people and he thinks it funny that I can act 'blacker' than him when I'm white as paper) on our way there and she got mad and made some comment about how just because I was dating a black guy didn't mean I had to act like I was black now. I have issues with people assuming all black people are ghetto, I always have since I've had very intelligent friends who were black.

Anyhow, because I was around someone beside my mom (I literally have one IRL friend you guys, not joking) I got into a manic high that lasted about 7 hours. Being Bipolar, you don't get happy and then relax. You go from psycho-laughing-your-butt-off-at-nothing happy to I'm-going-to-kill-myself sad or angry. It's like being high on drugs, then crashing. Same thing, only you do it naturally no matter what. So basically during the hour drive home I became severely depressed to the point of crying (I can't really cry, I'm always so unhappy and worn out and crying takes lots of energy so I never have enough for the act or the actual tears) and got a headache. I threw up a "I'm hurting, taking a nap" away message on AIM and laid down for an hour, waking up just numb.

The minute I came back Hattie IM'd me (to which my heart fluttered, last we spoke was Tuesday) and asked me what was wrong since he always tries to help me feel better when I get upset. I basically explained it was manic depression, i.e. my 'crash', and that there honestly was no reason behind it. He kept pressing the issue, I guess thinking I was hiding something from him. Eventually he gave up and told me he'd let it slide. I understand, I've hidden my problems before for his sake like when I didn't tell him for 3 weeks that my mom had been fired and it was possible we'd have to move back in with my aunt because the day it happened was the day his best friend betrayed him and I didn't see the point in dragging it up after that.

It's really hard to be mentally... what's the word I'm looking for here, not disabled... let's just say unstable, and try to explain your problems to someone. I have a LOT wrong with me, but my Bipolar Disorder takes center stage because it causes me to fluctuate moods in a matter of minutes and I never have the middle ground of calm. When I am calm it's usually because I'm a bit depressed but I'm not bad enough to shut out the world. There isn't always a reason. Now, when I can talk to him I will get a high even if I'm not bouncing around, and when he leaves I will crash and since our time together is few and far between lately, I crash HARD. But a lot of times there's no reason and I'm unpredictable in mood. I could be fine and someone could say one thing to me and I'd lose it. I'm half convinced I have a personality disorder, but I hate the pill russian roulette to find the right dosage/combo/pill. Anyway, he knows my dysfunctions but still sometimes he doesn't understand (no one really can unless they suffer from it) and I just want to tell him he can't fix everything wrong with me because there's not always a source.

On a lighter note, Heather and I were discussing the vampire trend in movies and books and Hattie's real name (which no one knows but me, he hates it so much he uses a fake name. Even his employers don't know his real name or any of his friends. You've no idea how long it took me to wheedle it from him) is the name of a popular vampire novel series character (no, no one from Twilight) and I was discussing the absurdity of the series and had to mention the character and paused because I thought she'd think I was talking about him when I said it but then realized she only knew his fake name so I said the name and almost turned red because I thought of him. I love his name, it suits him so much because it's elegant and he can turn even curse words into prose of the highest calibur. I love the way he writes, the way he talks, the worlds and characters he can spin from his mind just by daydreaming. I always tease I'm going to take his brain and marry it, but really I love his mind. Still he hates his name and I'm never sure if he wants me saying it even when it's just us, yet his fake name falls flat on my ears. But it does roll off the tongue nicely in those moments of alone time. *turned red typing that, haha* He's a gentleman even though he's as messed up as I am sans the pills (poor us, we both suffer from acute paranoia so if we get a bad feeling we're texting going "omg are you ok? Is something wrong?" and we understand and console each other) but he makes everything so beautiful with his words. It fits that his name is just as elegant.

Bracelet not here. It's been almost two weeks. I used the site's contact e-mail to see if Michelle (I think she's the one handling the bracelets) could track the thing or see if it'd gotten lost in the mail. He got his Monday and we're only 2-3 mailing days away. Funny how I'm desperate for it, I'm losing my mind wanting something that reminds me of him. I don't begrudge lack of gifts from him since I'm weird about accepting them, but in these times I need something I know he touched at least once. A connection. Bah. His tea didn't arrive today either, guess he'll get that Monday. Wanted it to arrive today, weekends are the worst times for him. As he put it, they're his "personal timeshares in hell."

Just a fun ramble to end this: Heather's mom, the psycho that she is, has always called me "the chick with a dick" because I've never dated, I have a deep voice (Hattie says it's 'sensually deep', I think I sound like a man) and I've had short hair for years. Heather mentioned my Hattie's job to her and how badly they're treating him and she asked who he was. When Heather said he was my boyfriend the woman almost flipped and couldn't believe it. Maybe she'll stop thinking I'm trying to get in Heather's pants.