An Admonition: "While there's life, there's hope." (Cicero)

I feel split between two selves.

One: content and proud to feel useful to the world, beers on 2nd floor white-washed balconies, private dance-a-thons with the ipod on at 2 am, blissful in running, flirtation and smiles, balanced and respected.

The other: restless and disappointed, fucked up erotic dreams about people whom I never had much love for in the past, crying the average 2 hrs a week, angry and avoidant, full of poor coping mechanisms.

This is how I have felt since my teens, and age - while having dulled my initial emotions - has not mitigated this. I wonder if I am both of these personas, and if I always will be. Or is one the real me and the other the abberation? And if so, which is which?