I don’t understand. I really do try to be nice. It’s like Pacino in Godfather 3. I try to get out, but they drag me right back in.
I am well aware I have “anger issues.” I “take things the wrong way.” I see INTENT where there is none. I tell people this if we start to get “close” so they will be better able to know where I am coming from. What do they do, though? While smiling and nodding that they understand, they start pulling out their needles.
Maybe they just think they are smarter and they will not be noticed. Maybe they think their GAME is just that damned good. Maybe they think CRAZY=STUPID. Maybe they think that, if they just SAY they are not provoking me enough, I’ll either ignore it or just learn to live with it.
Those crazy trappers don’t know me very well, do they Tweety?
Meg tells me they don’t mean it. She says that, even though I TELL THEM, to their faces, in very clear terms, they just don’t get it. I reckon I understand that. NORMAL people THINK they understand “crazy” but how can they really? They think they “understand” something that makes no sense. CRAZINESS! What? “CRAZINESS makes no sense” or “It is CRAZINESS that NORMAL people think the understand CRAZINESS”? Take your pick.
What I know, what is real to ME, is that I have had my fill of deceit and manipulation. I am exceedingly good at that game. I have never lost. I am trying to walk away from it, though. If people INSIST on making me play, then the GAME will be in The Pit and that is SURE to leave a mark.
People ARE insisting, by they way. I tell them, “If you do A,B,C and D, I will be pissed.” They do A, I say nothing. B and I get nervous and ask, “What’s happening?” C and I tell them, “Dude, I am starting to get upset that you are pursuing this course. I asked you nicely not to. Please do NOT goto D.” What do they do? Smiling, nodding and falsely reassuring, they go STRAIGHT for D. Then they make it to ME to LISTEN and to UNDERSTAND and to GET PAST. Wait…didn’t the conversation start with me saying, “I am crazy” yet you put this on me?
Not anymore, Sunshine! I am DONE making Kissy-Face while assholes keep trying to piss down my back and convince me it’s raining.
I may be crazy, but I am a person. Others can choose to accept being bullied into acquiescence but there is no way in hell that I will take it. I am Nicholson in “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” on steroids….literally.
It’s too bad we live in such a MODERN, ENLIGHTENED age. What SHOULD happen is that, when these IDIOTS show their asses like this, I should just give them a smart slap on the face. “Wake up from Fantasy Land, Kiddo.” Of course, such “crude” behavior is unacceptable. Should it be, though? How many times have you been SURE that what someone around you needed was a good ass-kicking but the only thing that stopped you were the legal ramifications? I am convinced of that fact AT LEAST 5 times daily.
But…we are CIVILIZED, right? CIVILITY is overrated and for Cake Eaters who are smart enough to TALK their way out of something but NOT smart enough to overcome the brutal physicality of Natural Selection. In another word: pussies.
I, though, am NOT a pussy. I am not a Cake Eater or a Pie Boy. In the timeless words of renowned philosopher Kid Rock, I am “the only Cool-Hand Luke left in this town.” Unfortunately, I live IN civilization though.
Speaking of CIVILIZATION and being back in it…it is SO good to be out of Little Rock. I didn’t even know how HEAVY it was on me until after I left.
Please let me know if this makes sense to you: Since moving to West Virginia, I have purchased clothing that is BRIGHT, to the point of CREAM COLORED. In LR, the colors were always dark. DARK makes HIDING easier. I don’t mind so much being SEEN here. I am nowhere near as scared.
I am convinced that moving TO Little Rock was the BEST thing for Meg and me. It established US, corporately and individually. I am equally convinced that, had I stayed there much longer, it would have killed me.
The transition has been extremely difficult for me. It is not MOVING. I have done that so many times it is second nature. Everything about my life and WHO I AM is different. I still worry that this whole thing is a set Up. Either Meg will tire of me and send me packing (which she swears she will not do and I try to believe her) or it is GOD just making things nice for me now before HE kills me. Meg says THAT is my CRAZINESS talking.
I have personified my CRAZINESS. Henceforth it shall be The Monkey. Yes…The Monkey on my Back, but its screams are entirely different. There is no 28 Day Treatment…no 12 Step group. This little fucker is going to yammer in my ear forever.
I am and always have been “rapid cycling” bi-polar type 1. The last month has been rapid cycling while on a sugar high. Highs and lows hourly. And when I am manic and people act stupid, I can’t NOT be consumed. I breathe. I walk. I pray. I listen to music. I talk. It all helps, for a minute, then the downward spiral to rage starts again.
I am hoping to see a REAL doctor soon. I am steering away from meds. So far, about a dozen or so not only haven’t worked but also made things worse. The last medication suggestion I had was Thorazine. GREAT. Meg can strategically place Drool Buckets around the room. Thanks, but no.
It is difficult finding my footing here. It will be easier once I figure out WHO and WHAT I am supposed to be now.
I am trying not to become discouraged.