The Best Way I Can Explain What Mood Cycling Feels Like

Recently, a close friend asked me what it’s like when I cycle moods. Is it sudden? Is it slow? Do I feel like a different person? I thought for ages until I finally found an analogy that described it almost perfectly.

It’s like someone else remodeling a house while you are still occupying it and you are completely unaware… and that house is you.

One day, a lamp has been replaced. And the next, it’s the curtains. And the next, it’s the entry table. So on and so on until the whole house has changed. The days are just hours, but it feels like hours and days all at the same time somehow.

And you’re sitting in a house you don’t recognize, but you know it’s still the same house even though it’s all different. And you hate the new look, but it’s just so much and you don’t know where to start making it back into the house you love.

The bones are there. The old paint is there. The old furniture is locked away somewhere. And you dig and you dig and you dig to get back what was, what should be. But you tire so quickly from the digging.

So you sit and you sit and you sit and wait for the new paint to peel away. Seeing only just a sliver here and a patch there of the old house you want back so desperately. And it takes an eternity.

You can’t dig for the remnants anymore. You can’t sit and watch paint peel anymore. You’re so tired. So you sleep.

And one morning, you wake up and everything is back to normal. Like an extreme home makeover. There’s no evidence that the house changed in the first place except your crushing hangover from digging and sitting.

And you get comfy settling back into your old house.

And you get so comfy that you don’t even notice the new bar stools in the kitchen.