I live for two extremes. Rather than pausing at a happy medium and being able to observe the world through an objective and rational lens, I crash noisily and gracelessly between the two extremes of great happiness and euphoria to the crushing depths of depression.

One morning I will be floating on a cloud, untouchable and radiating light, then that afternoon I will not recognise that person who was so happy just a few hours before. I do not understand her. How could she see warmth and an avenue for optimism in a world whose cold walls keep closing in on me? All I see now are dead-ends in the only possible roads I could travel. So, I have to go underground, away for a while. I depart from any sense of inclusion I may have been working towards and turn in on myself.

In these dark moments I am embarrassed for the version of me who was euphoric not long ago. I feel ashamed of her as I am sure that she got things so wrong and she let her sunshine beam too strongly, sometimes blinding and confusing people. Now I over-compensate. I dim down the switches until I may as well no longer be there. If people wanted to find me they would have to squint so hard in the gloom that they do not bother. What is another lost girl to them?


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