That Moment

You know that moment when you just want to walk away? When you’re fed up, tired, sad, but you’re so tired and sad that you cannot even bring yourself to cry anymore. You’re mad, but screaming and throwing things just doesn’t have the same effect on your mood as it used to have. You feel a definite downward tug inside your chest, like you are not entirely sure if you would like to explode away from the world, or just dissipate into an invisible mist. You somewhat know one thing at least; you want to just go away and never return, but maybe watch from the shadows what everyone thinks of your being gone… If they will notice. 

You wonder if you’re just everyone’s little tag-a-long. How badly does everyone really want you around with them, or could they have just as much fun without you. Sure, it’s a little self-centered, but you can’t deny the thought. Especially if you always make sure to count them in on everything you do, and to express your individual, unique love for each one. Then hard times hit you, and you wonder if you mention it on twitter or facebook or through a text, will they possibly help me out a little? Just a small message of kindness to make me feel a little less alone and hurt? You don’t want to outright tell them, you want them to come to you just as you go to them. Then you see the posts and tweets following what you posted… They are all having a great time with friends elsewhere, or making a lot of money, or generally having a great time. You feel more alone than ever.

Again, it’s self-centered and fantastical, but sometimes you wish you could have the relationships that the writers of Friends portrayed through their shows and scripts. You know it exists, because you’ve seen from others before, and how they have friends that are the same way. What would be worse is if you had a lover who had these types of relationships with others. I could not imagine! Luckily on that forefront, my boyfriend is in the same boat as I am. He moved everywhere all the time, so friends were a hard thing to hold down.

I guess the issue is just that, being so different from everyone else when it comes to likes, preferences, and personality, it’s hard conforming with those that are much more normal. It’s not that they aren’t unique, but there is a definite universal norm about them that binds them and makes them much more approachable… And lovable. Me? I have to be careful of everything I do and say so as not to accidentally offend someone, or be called weird, dumb, or annoying, or to most of all avoid that look. You know the look… The one where they give this sort of quick glance around the room, and look at someone else they know and share a mental conversation about what just happened.

This may all seem super mental, and it probably is, because honestly I am not as normal as everyone else, whatever normal means. I would like to be just like everyone else, but I’m not. Someone once used to make snarky facebook posts and comments about how I would try to make my life look so perfect and that life isn’t perfect and that I should accept it. I do accept it, but I try to find the positive points in my life and promote them the most…. Or things like this happen. Maybe she should have done the same and she wouldn’t be so bat-crap crazy and constantly have her “friends” that I know talk badly about her every chance they get. 

When it comes down to it, this post is about how being bipolar and manic depressive feels. This is what it feels like when you’ve been considered autistic when young. This is what it feels like when you have terrifying dreams that make you walk outside in the night, claw at your face, and dream of everyone you love becoming possessed and trying to strangle you. This is what it feels like to wake up every morning… Screaming. This is a daily struggle, a battle even. So if I want to point out how “great” my life is all the time, and try to promote that side of me, then just shut up and stop commenting on every feature of my life. Instead of being one of those friends who would really come to my aid when I wanted to die, you bad-mouthed me to those I knew, who then told me, and belittled me at every. Single. Moment. Every time I got near you, you would go on about how you did things better and greater. Yes, I got defensive about it, but I wasn’t trying to make myself look better to hurt you, I was trying to make myself look decent to myself. 

Just realize one thing for me; we all make mistakes, but you hurt me long before I did anything to tick you off, and you hurt me many more times before then. And seeing your little scribbles of poetry on your wall about how you wanted people to back off, how you would haunt them, how they would pay… Please… I didn’t do things like that because people who are really struggling don’t create such blatant cries for attention. Yes, I’m doing it now. It’s what you wanted isn’t it? To hear that my life has crap in it too, other than family issues? You don’t even know the first level of the canyon of my problems. But I handled them well, didn’t I? I kept my grades sky high, I maintained several jobs and got raises, my boyfriend and I never fought or had many issues because he was working just as hard (and I always trusted him, and knew where he was and never stated in a fit that he was with other women. Why? Because I know he would never do that. Why are you questioning yours? Don’t answer, I already here the “grown-ass woman” story coming), and supported my family as well as myself, and I still got elected to great positions in many clubs and volunteered. Oh yeah, I won a lot of scholarships too. 

What have you done lately? Pay someone to publish your book without editing it? By the way, a couple of English tutors in the department last year found your book online for free to read, cover to cover, and showed it to their boss to keep you from getting hired. I didn’t even know about that until after you hurt me.

So I finally get some sort of closure. Thank God. I needed this. Now I can move on and never really think about you ever again. I take that back, I will think of you. I’ll think of you and remember that anyone who I find similar to you, I need to get away from immediately. Congratulations, you had the strongest effect of wanting to kill myself than I have ever received from anyone else before. 

This will be the only terrible blog about the dark secrets of my life, but I wanted to write this in a process that would explain how some peoples’ minds work. I hope that whoever reads this will remember to be careful of what they do and say around those with mental or environmental issues, whether minor or major. The successful ones, the quiet ones, the seemingly happy ones are usually the ones that have it the worst. Be kind, or just don’t do anything at all. We could really use the help every day. 

Thank you. 

P. S. I wrote this quickly, and did not edit it. May the rawness bring out more of how I felt in this moment. 

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