Manic Waffles and the Bearer of Slackerdom

Pretty sure I’m having a manic episode. Pretty sure that’s my thing right now. Not positive, at least not 100%, but, I mean, when was I ever?

Here’s the thing. I know I can be good, I’m a downright amazing person, I’m worth fighting for and loving. Recently I’ve been “waffling”. I flop back and forth about what to do with my life, or who to keep in it, or what to do when I wake up in the morning. And it sucks. That’s not an apt description of it. I lie in indecisive agony, because I have no direction in my life.

Some moments I’m ready to take on the world, knowing my full potential (I’m greatly intelligent and can have good people skills, and I excel at anything I get behind full force). Other moments, I’m ready for the world to just make some sort of end happen. My emotions are a whirlwind of incomprehensible thoughts and ideas.

Flipping back and forth between ideas like my ideas are some sort of boring television cable in the middle of the day. At moments I yearn for things to return, then *click* I want a chance with this woman over here. The options are not nearly so simple either, but they almost are always mutually exclusive.

Recently I had been talking with my ex about my situation mentally. How I desired to be with someone who wasn’t available. I know, clearly a bad idea for both of us. I know so little else though. And she knows me the best, I just wanted some insight. I tried to talk to an older friend who knew me pretty well too, I wanted her opinion because I had doted on her some time years ago with a manic nature driving me to write poems and give her gifts. She passed on talking to me, it made her husband uncomfortable, which is just fine I guess, that’s not out of reason.

I just let so few people in. Like really in. This new girl, the one I’ve mentioned time and time again, she caught me off guard. She was gorgeous and nice and funny and caring (and quite the nerd). I found myself spilling my problems to her before I even knew what they were. There was a lot of natural comfort there and I ate it up. She made me feel worth something or at least started me with an incentive to make myself feel that way.

And it’s still hard, I don’t always feel that way. Especially now, when I’m switching in between motives and decisions so fast I could be on a grid iron about to be served and covered in syrup (Blueberry please!). She helped me to feel normal. Something I sometimes had with my ex. Usually with my ex I was embracing being a little off. That wasn’t a bad thing, it was quite good. But somewhere in all the chaos, my heart fell out in this new person’s lap.

And so I tell her eventually, “Hey, I got a story, and I just need you to know…” that kind of bullshit. And she at first declines. Probably in denial or not wanting this to be a thing (who could blame her, she was, IS engaged). But, she comes out of it, “I’m not going to stop being your best friend” she tells me. And my mind tells me this is a dead end, but I can’t quite quell the desire.

So I waffle. And I dote. And I threaten my very few existing friendships. And I sit around, waiting for ideas to come, and they do. In a great number. Some to show my affection to my off limits best friend. Some to carve a path for a future. Some to have confrontations to get a sense of closure. I don’t know what to do. But, maybe that’s ok, I’ll just be me for the time being until I’m ok with one path or another. I’ll risk what I deem necessary to achieve my own values. I can ask nothing more of myself.

And neither can anyone else. So, as I waffle, at least I do so on my terms. When this boat stops rocking, maybe I’ll get some placid seas for a change.

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