by Mallory Bower
In the beginning, things were just a little off. If you weren’t close, you wouldn’t have noticed. My intuition was in overdrive and my gut was screaming, “this isn’t right!” But still, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
First, there were the tall tales that I so badly wanted to believe. Elaborate stories, spun carefully with conviction and woven with lies.
Then there were bouts of hyper, all-in mania that made my head spin trying to follow along and make sense of it all. Hundreds of projects started, but never finished. Nuts and bolts; screws loose.
Next came the mood swings, broken glass, unbridled anger. Followed by self-loathing and isolation.
And then, quiet. The calm before the storm that would brew again without warning.