Note: Now, I know I said I wouldn’t really get into the day-to-day of how I’m feeling in these Medicated Artist posts and I’d stick to mainly just talking about how medication is effecting my ability to create art, but this is directly related to that.

I’m not sure why, but while I was driving back home from my day job today I was all of a sudden in a TERRIBLE MOOD. Yes, sitting all day in one spot at a desk that COMPLETELY SURROUNDS YOU will do that to anyone. It just wears you down, which is weird because it’s the most non-physically-straining and non-mentally-straining thing to do. Ever. But, I don’t think that’s what it was that got to me.

I wasn’t feeling worn down. I hardly really feel that way much at all anymore. I have ENERGY! I can feel my heart GOING! I feel TWITCHY! But not in a bad way. Not necessarily in a good way either. Just feels different. Or, I’ve felt that feeling before, but not for extended amounts of time. It’d come and go. Like…it’d be there coming down from the stage after a performance. Or, immediately in the aftermath of writing a song that took 3 minutes to complete. Or, even after seeing a really giant spider stringing a web from the garage tops in the alley.

So, I’ve got that going on. And sometimes it’s hard to know what to do with that energy. Especially while sitting all day in one spot, like I said.

And then sitting in one spot in traffic.

And then Busta Rhymes comes up in the song shuffle and you start thinking to yourself, “Hey, I’m just never going to perform music ever again. I just don’t want to. There’s no need at all. And, I’ll also never write anything ever again. It’s stupid to do that. I feel okay and I’ve got all this energy and, yeah, that also makes me feel really terrible.” (You think a lot to yourself sitting in traffic.)

Like, the only thing you know you want to do is NOT play guitar, or not write, or not do that thing you love most and makes you feel human EVER AGAIN. And that’s like just handing you a shovel and saying, “Here, dig yourself a hole and then just KEEP DIGGING.” Eventually the sides of the hole cave in when you get too far down, ya dig? The Earth piles on top of you and you think there’s pretty much nothing else.

But then you hear a song that you wrote about your daughter. (Yes, I listen to my own songs. They help me know where I’ve been and where I’m headed. They tell my story, in a way, I suppose. And it’s good to remember that sometimes. It’s also good to say, “Geez, that song was bad. Can’t believe I let anyone else hear that.” It can be humbling. [Yes, this is how you spell “humbling.” I checked. It’s weird, though, isn’t it?] But also, I have a HUGE EGO.)

And then you hear Sister Rosetta Tharpe sing “What He Done For Me?” And you think about how it’d be a good idea to write on your blog about how low you can get and how it just comes on all of a sudden. And (maybe because of all that) you then have like 4 or 5 ideas for new songs or new directions to go.

That can be how it is.

Which is weird to think that just considering DOING SOMETHING makes my mood shift like that. It’s like a flood coming down. You just gotta jump out of the boat or roll with it.

It’s a strange feeling and I’m not sure if the medication I’m taking is the cause or the effect of that. If it’s clouding up my brain. If it’s making everything move so fast. If it’s a good fast or a bad fast. Or if it’s not doing anything at all.

Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s going on at all. Sometimes everything makes sense.