, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Reflection from February 17th, 2008 @ Age 26


You know what my Uncle Mark said when I told him I was applying to take the February 2009 bar exam?  He said, “well don’t worry, you can take all the time you need, and anyways, your Aunt Jean never even ended up taking the bar exam at all!”  That was really nice of him to say—it just seemed supportive, which was nice. 

Anyways, I just thought his card was so nice, and it really made me feel good that he said I was his favorite niece—I’m not really sure why he said that or why I am, or if he really meant it and all, but I don’t see why he would say that if he didn’t mean it.  Anyways, it was just so very nice to hear, and it was nice especially in light of my prior thoughts that none of my extended Sabik family ever even thinks about me at all.  I don’t mind being proven wrong even one bit.

You know I misspoke before.  I said that I never have periods of normalcy—spans of time in which my mood is neither severely high nor severely low.  I do have such periods, though they are few and far in between, and I find it rather peculiar that it’s during these periods of “normalcy” that I feel most insane of all.  You see whatever state I happen to be in, whether I’m high or low or even, in whatever particular state I am in at any given moment—it’s almost impossible to believe that I felt so extremely any other way.  When I’m high, and I’m not talking drunk or on drugs or anything of the sort—when I am naturally high the entire world just makes sense.  When I am high I find meaning in everything but most of all, in the mundane daily circumstances of life.  When I am low I wander through never ending darkness, without answers and without a plan.  When I am even, let me tell you, I feel like my moods are something that I should be able to control.  And believing, in those moments, that I should have power over that which I have no control—I’m at my most ugliest state of being and I feel most out of control.  I judge myself in these moments, and there are few things that feel worse than rejection of one’s own self.  That is how I feel in this moment.  I feel “normal” and completely insane in my normalcy.  I can’t even begin to explain the basis for such an oxymoronic assertion.