Sometimes I wonder if I’m not a bit like these:
Just one step from flickering out. See, I’m always feeling like I’m floating in between stages of hypomanic and depressed. So I’m either the lit-up bulbs in the chandeliers, or I’m a burnt out bulb.
I’m not sure why I feel like this at times…but I do.
Though I suppose it’s one of the most apt comparisons I can come to. After all, it’s a striking one for me. Bright flaming light, like the “candles” or burnt out, dead light. The light, attractive, bright part that draws people in…and the dead part that is exhausted and no longer of use. Not that me in a depressed state is “dead”…just that it’s a type of comparison I’ve come to.
It’s a bit like the old chandeliers we used to have in my old house. The second photo there reminded me of it, and that’s why I started taking the photos at the Weihnachtsmarkt in Strasbourg, France in 2011 when I was visiting the city. It looked like an old chandelier we had in my home I grew up in, so I took a photo, and then the other one came along, so I took another photo of that one as well. I didn’t really have any deeper idea about why I would take photos of chandeliers/lights, but it does give me some sort of parallel to use now.
I think perhaps I should have thought before that I feel a bit like a chandelier with my mental disorders. Swinging between being bright, cheerful and beautifully purposeful at times, and other times being past the useful period in life, or just being exhausted and of no further use. Like a chandelier of candles where the candles are burned out. It’s the two different poles that seem to speak to me. An apt type of metaphor.