Bipolar

I have been called Bipolar several times, that I ‘swing around’ and surprise people. Usually it goes something like- "You are more mature than your age." or “O I never knew you were this fun!” I don’t necessarily take this as a compliment. But yea, whatever! I have two sides of me that I juggle with. The first impression people have of me is always wrong. Coz they see only one side of it. I am not a stereotype. You can’t fit me in one box and judge me with that label. Just because I work efficiently, does not mean I can’t have fun. Just because I am sarcastic, does not mean I cannot be sentimental. Just because I dress modestly, does not mean I am tamed. I feed the crazy in me, but don’t let it come out that often. I don’t want to drive people mad with my crazy. I get bored easily; the crazy mind keeps me going. What I am outside is the toned down version of what I am inside. And it is only a very few people who can break in and come inside. When you come in, you will again see two people inside. One is scared and insecure, and the other is wild and childlike. There is a child within me, who I can never let die. I thrive on the child within me. A child who is amused by the world around. This childlike curiosity keeps me alive. 

Will I ever let the ‘inside’ come outside? Or will I be a bipolar all my life? Will I always wear this comfortable garb of sanity or will I ever become comfortable to step outside naked?

My last story- Free bird- was essentially about this. About coming out. The feeling of freedom, of flying in wild abandon, knowing that sky is your place. But is there really any such thing as free? Was the bird ever free? Inside or outside.

P.S: This is a follow-on post from my previous story post (link above "Free bird"). The word 'Bipolar' here is not used in terms of medical disorder.