“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”– Haruki Murakami
I’m not entirely sure what the actual verbatim textbook definition of the word “chaos” is, but I know for me it can only be described as a constant state of mental confusion and disorganization that leaves me in a place of total loss.
In continuing this phase of “productive self-reflection” (at least while I can), I have to look at that word and take it seriously. It’s thrown around a lot, yes, but definitely not loosely. Chaos is exactly what it is.
To me, chaos is a much worse feeling or place to be in than that of depression or sheer mania. Chaos may be a sort of offshoot of depression and mania (or vice versa), but there is a very specific difference that doesn’t allow these feelings the wherewithal to be blurred or misconstrued.
Experiencing chaos during a cycle is a given guaranteed (I mean, duh), but that doesn’t ever make it any easier to deal with or handle. The inner chaos that accompanies a bout of depression and/or mania is blindly debilitating. Between the disorganization and the delusions, there’s nothing worse than being hyper aware that you’re totally lost. It’s an uncomfortable feeling at best.
My chaos is all encompassing, surrounding and infiltrating every little nuance in my head. It is both the storm and the aftermath.
For the sake of not sounding pretentious, perhaps self-reflection isn’t the best tool for me.
Just going to enjoy the downtime.