the market was cancelled, and so i have an unexpected day off. not exactly what i wanted, even though it’s nice to relax at my favourite coffee shop on a rainy spring afternoon. i am having troubling sitting still right now; i want to be pushed into my hyper-social mood, and forced to be funny and cute with everyone who comes by the market stall. cuz even if it makes me feel shitty later, at least in the moment i’m someone else.

i went to lee’s and lay on his couch while he simultaneously got ready for work and gave me a good inspirational talk. his couch has always reminded me of a psychologist’s, something about the slick fake leather and boxy-solidity of it. just lying there, i could feel how heavy it’d be to move it… which i guess is why it came with the apartment.

anyway, i told lee how he and rebecca are almost the only folks i can really handle being around these days. too many other friends and aquaintences react to my depression with a barrage of solutions and platitudes. or else they hug me, in this weird kinda fragile way.

the crappy thing is that i think i do that myself, treat my friends’ bad headspaces as another little problem-solving exercise. i put this to lee, who said that actually i’m pretty good, though it depends on my mood. “sometimes you’re impatient,” he told me. “and then you refuse to understand why i’m having a hard time.”

probably cuz they’ve done a lot of work on their own depression, lee and rebecca both simply listen to me and offer me their company. i’ve also gotten good company from mat, who’s great when yer down cuz he’s devoted a lot of time to fucking around with the inside of his head. he’s got great perspectives on things, and enough energy to buoy my spirit along with his own. mat also is very caring, and always ready to share some tea and roll me a cigarette.

yeah, a cigarette: less than a week without coffee, and i’ve been smoking tobacco. not much, just a little each day… enough to make my lungs get that crazy expansive feeling before they close up again.

i don’t know why i quit coffee exactly, except as an easy distraction. lee said it’s ridiculous, that i’m just making a crap emotional time worse for myself. but i though it was making me manic, a contributing factor to my instability.

the last coffee i drank was with the girl from my art course, the day class was cancelled because the prof was sick. i was already in one of my intense highs, which is where i found the courage to ask her to come to the cafe with me in the first place. i was giddy and confident, and coffee only makes me more talkative.

so we hung out and i just couldn’t stop flirting, no matter how hard i tried. i didn’t necessarily want to stop, but i knew i was being over-the-top. i felt out of control. when i’m with someone i’m attracted to, i tend to get a bit silly, just saying wild things to make them laugh. this was beyond that. i hope to gawd that she didn’t notice; i did, and it scared me.

withdrawal from coffee is pretty crappy. i like to think that i don’t drink much of it on a regular basis, but mostly i just consciously refuse to taly the amount, convincing myself that it doesn’t matter. my body’s achy now, screaming at me that it does matter, that every ounce of caffeine-laden liquid was something i needed in order to function.

breathe in,
breathe out.

so yeah, kicking my coffee addiction didn’t exactly stop the fast rollercoaster of emotions. i can’t really tell if it made them worse, i just know that i’m extra tired and my head hurts. despite this, it still feels worth it, because it’s given me something else to focus on. i’ve now got another reason to feel like shit, and “chemical withdrawal” is a better excuse than any of my others.

on top of that, it’s given me something to look forward to, bumping up my threshhold for misery. the next cup of coffee i drink is going to be absolutely divine, it’s going to taste so fucking good. when things get really bad inside my head/heart, i *could* simply pour myself a cup of happiness. only my willpower is stopping me.

and i guess that’s what this is really about: having control over something. even if it’s a tiny thing like my dependence on coffee, it’s still something i can hold onto. coping with the growth that this spring is requiring of me is gonna be slow and painful work; in the meantime, i can feel an achy satisfaction in sticking to mugs of water and krakus. for the moment, at the very least… fuckin’ hell.


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