3 States

No-- not Missouri, Tennessee, & Wyoming...
States of mind a.k.a.
depression, lethargy, & elation.
I don't feel much else,
no in-between places.
It's like every morning I wake up
and someone's thrown the switch.

Depressed a lot
I took the company health quiz a couple years back,
a quaint little on-line thing.
5 minutes out of lunch & you get a $50 A.J. Wright gift certificate!
(I bought shirts)
Anyway, I took it.
Very frank, very honest
Heck, why not?
And I get this flashing bulletin at the end,
like some carnie prize proclamation--
"Seek professional conseling immediately!"
or somesuch words to that effect.
I guess no one likes to hear the truth,
not even an anonymous cyber-test program.

I remember high school was the worst,
just slammed with hormones & chemical growth...
my mental trying to keep stride w/ the physical.
I moped a lot.
I remember being in a dark bus,
lying on a seat near the back...
the group of us had just finished some state drama festival
or was it Show Choir?
Anyway, it was celebratory...
whatever the lot of us had done in our post-scholastic hours
it was victorious.
And there I was,
immersed in my Walkman world of cold old electronica,
cranking out the sounds of boys 'n girls,
laughing and flirting.
Outside the window I could see the silhouette of a tennis court,
the other buses from the other schools,
lined up behind us in the lot.
I'll never be like them, I thought.
I won't be that weak. I won't settle for winks and nudges
and weddings and babies. I won't give in.
A sort of meglomania took hold of me.
I was certain I was destined for better things.
I was above my surroundings.
It was so easy to turn it off.

But what a price. Self-incrimination & loathing.
Never being good enough.
My own impossibly high standards...
and all the while flailing in some autistic spat.
Losing connections.
And when I did fall for some girl, some Chicago or K...
of course I fell hard.
And after it all...this heavy state. A treacle feeling,
a constant press on my shoulders.

Lethargy is fatty fat-bones.
Eating cheaply & badly.
Stickpins for arms
pipecleaner for legs
but a gorilla-suit belly for waistline...
so inappropriately disproportionate.
A bloated later-day Cassevettes.
20 lbs on me is 100 lbs on a fat man.
Constantly tired
the only thing I want to do is watch movies
and eat Chinese food.
The only time I'm happy, it seems.
Shaving every morning is a challenge...
I know if I can do that, I can make the day.
Used to go a couple times a work-week w/o shaving,
but since the new President!
Figures the days I'd see him in the office,
would be the days I didn't shave.
Had to correct, stay below-the-radar...
just another office drone.

Elation is good productive Type A me--
the Peter Davison & David Tennant rush for breath &
11th hour rescue.
Again my meglomania kicks in here,
but it's good meglomania.
Like I can do anything...
because really, everything in life is force of will--
you vs. the other guy.
A constant competition in which you must win
or they do.
This is how I feel when I drink
like I'm attractive to girls
& I hold a 5-year career gameplan.
I hold information that no one else knows.
I am resolute & know for certain how things will play out.
I can counsel.
I can do lots of things.
What a feeling. Is this how drugs make you feel?
Is this why people do them?
To be sure?

I've only been slipped a hash brownie
& dry sucked a bong circa 1991
(Paul's loft in Fort Point, right across from dear old Mobius).
I'm trying wine now over beer.
But there's no huge urge involved.
I feel heightened enough when I dream
and those days I do feel on-top-of-the-world
are au natural.
I don't want to be dependent on anything else.
I want my success to be wholly me.
My personality reeling like techno & laser lights.
Me goosestepping on skyscrapers.

So there you have it.
Mental health 101.
Courtesy of this morning's introspection,
a truck drive up Rte 128
and green tea.
Ooh! Cheat alert!
That latter's got caffeine!