Fantastic

“I don’t know. I guess… I guess I just feel like my default state now is… I don’t know. Complete misery.”
“And yet–and this is meant more as an observation than a compliment–you always look fantastic.”
I laughed. So he laughed.
“And that, too!” He pointed at me. “That laugh. That’s genuine. People can tell that’s real.”
“Right. Man, I don’t know. I mean, logically I know that those two parts of myself can exist together. But, I don’t know. It feels like one has to be real and the other a cover.”
Is that my disease or the two wolves fighting?
I don’t know where this idea came from. That I am all either one thing or the other. Either depressed and using happiness as a cover or happy and never feeling the real crippling emptiness of depression. Surely you are not all one thing or another. Maybe there are no covers.
I’m terrified and miserable. I’m confident and exuberant. Not because I’m bipolar, but because people are fluid. Not everything is a symptom, kid. Sometimes it’s just how you’re feeling. Maybe your default state isn’t anything. Maybe life is neutral.