It Isn’t (just) a Mood Swing (for fuck's sake)

You know what—wait.

It isn’t a “mood swing.”

It isn’t just “ups and downs,”

The Sads or “Let’s move to Bali.”

It’s missing time and Swiss cheese memory.

My vision changes.

My taste buds can’t handle root beer.

Pain feels different.

It’s talking talking talking despite bullshit word retrieval.

It’s go go go, do do do, yeah yeah yeah,

let's be anywhere but here,

and oh hey I should kill myself!

It’s doorframe bumps,

weighed-down eyes,

nothing’s worth doing,

and oh hey, I should kill myself.

It’s knowing I am not myself.

It’s an altered state of being.

So no, I’m not going to call it a mood swing.

I’m going to call it an episode

or maybe an event because,

while those words may not be terribly descriptive,

at least they don’t minimize it.

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