You've nailed one of my most maddening problems: I don't understand what's happening now. At the moment, I'm sinking from an anger-induced calmness and something else, but I can't name that something. Not clarity, not less confused… maybe a feeling of being grateful for the respite from feeling imminent insanity.

I had visitors today. I felt fear as they came through the door, charming while they were here and anger when they left. Now it's back. The only two things that are predictable are that I'll not sleep and that in trying to understand I'll get so very close to the edge of madness only to continue the cycle of hourly changes, manic hypersexuality to a self-disgust of my body to crying for almost any reason and feeling the evil filth of my soul and on and on and on but always deathly fearing the edge as the bizarre continues to change.

I'm queer about knowing my diagnoses. Depression, anxiety and a plethora of phobias. If a new symptom arises, I can pigeonhole it to a known diagnoses and, in that way, understand my illnesses. This new… thing, this thing with no name, these many things that go through my head as the anonymous thing takes complete control and pushes and pushes and pushes me, using my most painful and shameful and tenderest and rarest feelings to keep pushing. Feelings that I've never discussed, thoughts that I've kept hidden and things that I've done. The oddest part is not all of the feelings, thoughts and actions are bad.

Thinking of happiness and joy always makes me feel worse.

I've never considered hypersexuality to be something that shamed me. But then it did. Mania should last longer than a couple of hours, shouldn't it?

I'm beginning to master the rude exits but I'll thank you for reminding me of what I need.