I feel like my life is so scattered right now. Like it's all the small pieces of paper and someone's turned on the fan

This is what being marginally bipolar (type II) means in my world:

• enthusiastically accepting some invitations that I know as I make them that I won't follow through with, or that I will go through but with painful reluctance. It's as if an entirely separate person has set my schedule.
• feeling, as well as being, scattered. I have a whole Saturday ahead of me with no firm plans. What should I do with it? The deciding alone can eat the majority of the day, and the recriminations about being a flake who can't make a simple choice will devour the rest. 
• starting a task with full intention of completing it, only to be distracted by the next project, and the next project, until I have a dozen half (or less) done and zero enthusiasm or energy to finish any of them. Sometimes I'll get lucky and the next up-cycle brings me back to some or all of those, so something gets actually done. More often, the partially-completed undertakings continue to pile up until I have to force myself to deal with them. It's not that I don't want to do them, but they (like everything else) seem overwhelming when weighing on me—along with the expectations of anyone who knows about them, and that I've left yet another thing undone.
• when I was younger (hello college years), drinking far too much of the wrong stuff and intimately associating far too much with the wrong people. Dramatically less of the former means none of the latter anymore.
• knowing, with absolutely no question, that no one knows as well as I do how to [insert pretty much anything here]. Not that I'm "the smartest person in the room" so much as, why isn't any one else logical? Why are people so frustrating?! It's simultaneously being interested in everything (everything, anything, please give me more input now and at all times!) and satisfied by nothing.
• periodically buying things that I want, but absolutely don't need, and then when they arrive, feeling utterly powerless to either enjoy them (I can't afford this!) or return them (but I made the transaction in good faith!) Spending money not truly randomly, but without care.
• feeling as though I am absolutely drowning in sadness. Not precisely in response to anything, but more like everything, all at once. The only word that comes close to summing it up is overwhelming. These periods are 'mood episodes', and the NIMH site explains it very well: "unusually intense emotion." From a distance, I can tell that my reactions are out of proportion to stimuli. But in the moment, it makes complete sense, and actually seems the only possible response, to sob as if all of my life is unworkable, over some missed connection or clearly temporary challenging scenario.
• babbling. A seemingly endless stream of communication, which in my case is more often than not coming out in writing, so that those closest to me sometimes can't escape text messages, FB messenger, email, and handwritten notes. I also have my moments when it's verbal, but that's much more rare and limited to very few people. (Sorry, Mom & Dad.) No unexpressed thoughts.
• way too much physical energy, feeling twitchy or unsettled. This can be a good thing, expressing itself as an urge to exercise and getting my butt off the couch and onto the bike. It can also be really bad, diverting from whatever is supposed to have my focus, making it seem like I don't care about work or the people I'm with because I have an eye on the door, in hopes of escape.
• fading out of friends' (and, even more so, acquaintances') lives, with distressing regularity, and then bursting back in with probably overwhelming degrees of intensity...only to fade back out again

    It's not that I don't think, or don't care, or can't imagine that other people have feelings or plans or needs and wants. It's as if someone else is periodically taking over the wheel and driving my motivation and energy and I have no control—and, most importantly, no realization that it's even happening—until after the fact. Have you ever wondered why I am so quick to express my gratitude? And, conversely, that I am often starting with an apology, often when none might have been expected? It's like having an unruly pet that's gotten into the room first and caused all sorts of destruction. That I have any relationships left at all after the dust has settled, the shredded furniture replaced, the bites healed and the tail-wagging broken glass cleaned up, seems extraordinary. Superficial connections are a lot easier to manage than deep friendships because the odds of hurt feelings are lower.
     Please do not interpret this as anything more than a current status report. Insight into where I am, and where I might be headed. Or where I might have been, if you were wondering why I was not where you expected me.

[the title quotation is by John Green, from Will Grayson, Will Grayson]