Psycho Hangover

I don’t know if there is a term that has been coined for what I’m going through right now. Earlier today, I scrolled up into a dialogue I shared with one of my BFFs and read some of WTF we were talking about from just a few weeks ago and holy shit. I just went through a psychotic episode.

Live.

Right here.

Those readers who knew what they were seeing were the ones emailing me to talk to my doctor and, while I feel like the #PhatMiley project was fun and definitely for a good cause, there was some psychosis in the periphery where you, Beloved Reader, couldn’t see.

There was a lot of Crazy happening off-camera and in just-barely-secret.

There was a lot of emailing to friends, old lovers, and star-crossed friends, fervently pushing my very relevant agenda and playing connect-the-points of interest to give you all the evidence you could possibly ever need that me and the Universe are all conspiring rightthissecond. Apparently. A LOT of that.  And lot of lists and lists on top of lists and sublists, etc. I’m suddenly terrified to read too far past a certain point in my inbox and on my personal Facebookery, etc.  because some of the “Sent” emails I’m looking at were clearly written by someone who is outside of her mind. The same could be said about most of the phone calls I made around that time, too. Eeeerrruuugghhh……

Of course, none of the performance stuff is what’s in question, actually…. But God all my rambling. Alll of. My. Rambling. And my reasoning and gabbing and my inability to just stop.

I couldn’t stop.

I wouldn’t stop.

Heh.

No but seriously, I’m just now remembering that some seriously over-the-top, scary, embarrassing realities were happening really, really recently.  In my mind.

#Phuck

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