Welcome to the Dollhouse

I've begun to question who I am.

Personally, I blame my marathon viewing of the only two seasons of Dollhouse.

But there's more.

In the course of a few weeks last year, I had my boss bring up my bipolarness in a closed door reprimand meeting; my boyfriend's best friend explain away why I was angry as being bipolar instead of being angry at the situation at hand; and my boyfriend's therapist (whom I have never met) tell my boyfriend that I'm not bipolar.

I've rebuilt my life back in 2004 when I was diagnosed. I felt whole. The missing piece was finally there. I could explain myself to people and more importantly, to myself. Hi, I'm Kelly. I'm bipolar. It's who I was. It's who I am. It made me get help and come to terms with aspects of my personality that I didn't want to. It made me better.

Fastforward to 2010/2011: I've been off any pysch-meds for going on two years. I take my vitamin D and a multi-vitamin and for the most part, I'm fine. But I still swing, my stress levels rise like a flash flood and the dam breaks.

I asked Jack yesterday if he ever felt like he needed a vacation from life. And he responded with asking if our relationship was working out.

And it all makes me wonder what's in my head and what's not. And should I just go with my reality of things because, well, I can't have another.

And as long as I'm breathing, that's good right? And where do I go from here? And is this all exacerbated because I have a small fever?

And I can't get the Dollhouse theme out of my head.