Author's note: I know a lot of fans disagree with the fact that Cat is bipolar. I don't have an opinion one way or the other, because she DOES in fact exhibit symptoms of both ADHD and hypomania. So I'm going to run on the grounds that she's bipolar with a hypomanic twist. And… does the tense change make sense?
Oh my god. I think Cat is going to wear me out. Don't get me wrong, my girlfriend has always been hyper and talkative. I've come to accept this over the last year as part of the fact that she's almost always manic. Beck and Robbie have tried to convince me that she's not really bipolar, but I know better. They say she doesn't have downswings—she does. Cat's downswings never last long, but when she crashes, she crashes hard. They've never seen those sparks in her starving eyes die and flicker out. I have. The problem is Cat cycles so rapidly that it's difficult to say without a doubt, "Cat is in a depressive state."
She's going to crash hard, and she's going to crash soon.
I've climbed out of bed at 4 am more than once in the last week alone to find her surfing infomercials, ceaselessly reorganizing her bathroom, or in one case, washing my car. Just the other day, she announced that she was dropping out of school to join a metal band. It took me six hours and several assertions that she does not play bass to talk her out of it.
I think the worst part is her hypersexuality lately. Again, don't get me wrong—Jade West loves a good romp in the bedroom as much as any other hormone-driven teenaged girl. But a manic Cat Valentine is an absolute monster in the bedroom. I'm really not sure how much more I can take. For instance, I woke up like clockwork at 4 this morning. I really wish my body would stop doing that, but Cat's schedule has me thrown out of whack. Cat had just slid into the bedroom, probably to refold her underwear or something. When she saw me stir, her predatory instincts kicked in. My sleep-addled brain barely had time to register what was going on before Cat's lips had fastened themselves to my neck and her hand had snared my hip in an almost unshakeable grasp. I pushed her away gently and wrapped my arms around her waist.
Hurt flickered in her eyes, and I felt guilty. "Jade, what did I do?"
"I'm tired, Cat. I love you, but I am just too worn out to make love to you."
"Oh." The reply was simple, but it conveyed everything that was already written on Cat's face. I kissed her softly, slowly. She pulled back slightly. "Jade," she said somewhat angrily, "you never turn me down." Here we go… Cat is about to crash. I close my eyes and started reminding myself that my girlfriend has a lot of trouble controlling herself while cycling from one state to the next. I'm fairly certain I'd be getting a tear-filled apology for this soon. I knew for a fact she didn't mean it, and she wasn't angry at me. If anything, Cat would be angry with herself for trying to push me into sex. To be honest, though, I was shocked. Even at the worst I'd seen her, Cat had never been this sexually demanding, and she'd never been angry with me for not putting out. I just wished that for right now, the medication Cat was on actually worked. I drew her near.
"Sweetheart, I haven't been sleeping well. I've been worried about you. Talk to me?" She closed her eyes and sighed.
"It's getting worse," she stated simply. I had noticed. Her depressive state had lasted almost two days last time. That had to be some sort of record for the 99%-manic Cat. I asked her to describe what was going on, and she sighed again. "It's like… I can't grasp my own thoughts 'cause they're either too fast or too slow for me to see. Like right now. A minute ago, they were faster than usual, and we both know how fast they can be. I don't talk half as fast as I think." That was a shocker—Cat speaks a mile a minute most of the time and goes from puppies to pop music in no time flat. What I'm seeing right now—this is a very rare side of Cat. Her words are evenly metered, flatly intonated, and at a decipherable speed. This is a very rare side of Cat indeed.
"I can't think. I couldn't keep my hands off you, and when you said no, I got mad. I got really mad." I felt her blood boil. The electric jolt between us made me shiver, and yet, Cat didn't seem to notice. "Jade, I want it to stop." I wrapped my arms around her and laid us down.
"I know." I couldn't say anything else; nothing else needed to be said. I felt a dim wetness against my collarbone. Cat was crying. Soon, huge sobs wracked her body and violently shook the bed.
"I don't want to do anything anymore. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to eat, I don't want to sing…" I kissed her slowly, softly.
"We'll ride it out, Cat." A couple of times, she'd mentioned trying to find another medication, one that worked. To be honest… I don't want her to change. Cat being normal is like me being normal. I am not normal, and I know it. I feel like Cat and I are two halves of the same soul. Cat is the manic half, and I'm the depressive half. So the idea of balancing her out scares me… because without her, how will I find my balance? Changing her changes me. But every time my lover's reduced to tears in my arms, I'm terrified at what this routine does to her.
I know that tomorrow she'll be chasing rainbows, so to speak. But again… Cat without rainbows is Jade without scissors, and I'm scared.
I contemplated, at one point, telling her she doesn't need to change. Instead, now, I support her in her choices. Because really… I have no right to tell her to change or stay.
At some point, I noticed she'd fallen asleep. I couldn't bring myself to go back to sleep. I felt more like I understood the sunshine and rage that poured through her veins with every second. She's an illusion, an inconclusion, a nuclear meltdown in my brain.
I wonder if she gets it too.