I slept on and off. It’s rare to go more than three hours at a time sleeping these days. But yesterday it lasted all day. Then the full moon arose. And whatever anyone else says, whether scientific or statistical, empirical, anecdotal or pure horseshit, the full moon does affect certain people adversely. Scholars can go shit in their hats, too. Too many people with letters behind their names have already been caught making flawed, even false conclusions, and usually it’s for a buck. They need funding for their college-based group, they’re publishing a book or paper, and who knows what.

There’s science, then there’s the unknown. Sometimes there are unknowns which science refuses to even consider possible. For example there’s the Full Moon Effect. No, I’m not talking about werewolves. And crime statistics do not support the claim that a full moon means an increase in crime.

However, there’s beat cops and emergency responders who will tell you something more. They’ll say that it’s a night when the weird shit happens.

The weird shit? Well, yeah, but not weird like funny, humorous. Sick and tragic stuff. Freak accidents at home. Suicide attempts that are unusual in nature.

I know one thing for sure. Being mentally ill and suffering through the most symptomatic days, those are horrible. I’m in a depression right now. I don’t even want to write this shit. I don’t want to be doing anything.

Depression may not be sitting and crying and sobbing. It’s usually a really big deal. I got no energy. No desire to do anything. I hate to move or breathe. I don’t know what triggers a fibromyalgia flare up, but it was here. I hurt from head to toe and Tylenol won’t touch it. I was on a popular medication for a while and it helped but I was always falling, fainting and losing my memory.

And then there’s anxiety and panic attacks. A few hours ago I started trembling. My whole body shook violently and I couldn’t catch my breath. I thought the world was ending. I wanted to lie down and let it happen so it would all be over. A Klonopin helped, but I’d rather be free of that shit.

No one who doesn’t suffer from severe symptoms of bipolar and PTSD can know what it’s like to have all of the symptoms show themselves at once. And maybe I’m not ready to blame the moon phase, but when I looked up and saw it, I hated that fucker with everything I had. Getting flashbacks, terror attacks, have pain pounding through every cell, that shit sucks. And I got nothing to say that you can call positive. The lights I put up last week now make me feel like stomping them under my boot. Christmas is a vile time for me. How could I have imagined otherwise? It was once my favorite time of year. Now, just a reminder of death and loss and how alone I am.

I owe money on copays from years back, and can’t see a therapist. And no one understands me. Some claim to, and I appreciate that sentiment, but no, they don’t understand my crazy. I thought I could tell one friend anything. But for a while now, I’ve been getting told to stop, and they’re impatient, sometimes claiming an incoming call, sometimes when I can tell I’ve gone too far and they just don’t want to hear any more.

That’s okay. I understand that; it’s the way it’s always been, all my life.

Then, even though it was never a movie I’d pick, I watched “The Silver Linings Playbook” with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

I related to them. Having a mental illness and being misunderstood, being ashamed of having to take meds, I’ve been there. I knew the drugs they mentioned. I’m even on, or have been on, a few of them.

It struck me when he was out running and Tiffany would catch up to Pat, and doggedly try to get his attention. They shared an attraction, but he wouldn’t admit it. I think it’s her best role, but it left me confused. I wish I could have met someone like her.

If you see any of yourself in me I have some advice.

Life ain’t no movie. You ain’t gonna be kissing Jennifer Lawrence. You’re not gonna have the energy to dance. You won’t like crowds and you’ll never ever perform in front of them. And no one will ever understand you as much as you wish they could. They’ll make fun of you. They’ll tell you to change the subject or they’ll make excuses to get away from you or hang up. They’ll tell you they love you, but never in front of anyone else. Don’t be bitter. It’s just how they are. They ain’t like us. Be happy for them. Because there are already too many of us.

It’s good to think positive. Have goals. But I don’t know about a silver linings playbook. It’s just a fucking movie.

But I like it anyway.