I get really excited about stuff.
I’ve always been this way. Whatever I like at any particular time, I will go all in with my enthusiasm, declare that this song, this book, this movie, this cappuccino, this chocolate chip cookie, is OMG THE BEST EVER!!!!!!!!!! I will go full fangirl at the drop of a hat if you mention something I’m really really into right now. Elementary? OMG BEST EVER!!! Mirrors by Justin Timberlake? OMG BEST EVER!!! The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher? OMG BEST EVER!!!
It doesn’t mean I can’t recognize and discuss the flaws in the things I’m fangirling over. I will, for instance, happily discuss at length the problems in season two of Elementary. They are legion. And yet when I have the opportunity to watch an episode, I squee and do the Kermit YAY!!! flail. Because it is OMG THE BEST EVER!!!
Living in superlatives has its downsides, of course. Obviously, if Tyrion Lannister dies, or Elementary is cancelled (or, worse, jumps the shark), I will be crushed in a way I would avoid if I didn’t throw myself into it so completely. More problematic, though, is that getting this excited over everything echoes mania. I’m bipolar, and before finding the right combination of mood stabilizers and antidepressants, I would have periods where everything was BRIGHT and WONDERFUL and WOW and OMG THE BEST EVER!!! Where I was bouncy and excited and talked fast and had ALL THE ANSWERS!!! Periods that were inevitably followed by a hard crash.
I haven’t had one of those episodes in years, but getting superlatively excited can sometimes give me pause. Sometimes I’m hyper aware of my moods, and worry that fangirling over something is me ascending the first hill of the emotional rollercoaster that is bipolar disorder.
In spite of the downsides, though, I like the way I am. I like being unreservedly excited about things. I like loving things with abandon. I like squeeing and flailing and fangirling. I like getting other people excited about the things I’m excited about. And I wouldn’t trade all that for anything.