Apathy at least has something behind it, some rage, usually. But indifference has no substance. It's like powder tossed in the wind; it's nothing until it chokes you or stings your eyes. To me, indifference is dangerous. When I look at a stack of books and feel nothing, I know I have to get back to reading somehow. I was there for most of last year, and getting this far back in the right direction has taken determination, patience, and practice.
Sometimes, I feel indifferent about food, and I eat less and less. Sometimes, I feel indifferent about the way I look, and I don't put on makeup (I also can't engage in the fun of it). Any time indifference stretches its shadow over me, I know I have to do something, to escape.
With bipolar disorder, I often feel extreme, obsessive interest (mania) or apathy and despair (depression). So when my mood cycles reach a slump, indifference settles in. It's probably a way for me to rest between extremes, but it's not healthy either. I prefer the obsessions as long as the objects are books, writing, musical theatre, or something fairly healthy and actually me.
I will fight indifference every day. I want to be engaged.
No comments:
Post a Comment