Garbo-esque

It's like a cycle with me.

I enjoy people, I like to meet them, I like to ask questions about their lives, I like to get to know them and share moments with them. Occasionally, I may date someone and spend time with her. Try and do what I do with other people, only on a more personal, intimate level. Then, it begins.

I get this overpowering, withering desire to be alone. To simply shun friends, family and loved ones, stay in my house (emerging occasionally for, say, food or a quick cigarette), watch TV or read or mope. When I get pressured to go out, I'm almost in pain: I'm conscious of every word that comes out of my mouth and I feel like I'm playing a part in a play. It's crippling me and what I hate most about is the inconsistency it forces me to display.

If I was a loner all the time, I could perhaps deal with that. My life would be structured accordingly and I'd be content with my lot. The problem is I seem to oscillate between these two personas, two manic guises, one that's carefree and gregarious and light-hearted to the point of ditziness and the other that's dark and bitter and painfully self-aware and sensitive. I swear that the moment I accept the demands of one persona, the other comes crashing through the ceiling like Zorro. Trying to adjust to who-I-am-this-season is like some kind of deranged dance that throws my entire self out of balance.

I'm tired of living like this. It's so fucking exhausting and the waste of energy it involves (just from worrying about it and trying to figure it-me-out) is overwhelming. I know it's a kind of mania and I know I probably got it from my mother but what I don't know is what to do about it. Anti-depressants don't work (that well) and therapists all say that I'm mentally healthy to the point of unhealth.

I wish I was a shape-shifter. Then, when I'm in one mood, I could look one way and when I'm another, I could switch.