My Bipolar Journal - Episode 66

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 66

May 25, 2007

It's a very confusing day. I'm supposed to be writhing in my seat. Waiting for this last day of prison to end. Only a few more hours and I will be free of this burden they call a "day job" and on to my actual life. I can't help thinking about the other thing I'm still missing though and I just feel very.... without it. Part of me is still missing, so I'm not enjoying this as much as I should be. Probably a good thing in the long run because if I still had it and a shot at my actual life, I would be bursting. Possibly doing the thing that I have been dying to do for over two years and leap on the desk and scream, "If I could I'd wait!" as I leapt over the cubicles in a single bound, bypassed the elevators and out the windows, enough energy to flap my way home. Instead I'm sad. I don't think that's very fair at all. There is no one here that will miss me, no one here that offered to buy me lunch on my last day, hell, no one except maybe one person here knows it's my last day and I have planned it as so. I didn't want to learn any of their names. I kept it on a need to know basis and haven't advertised the fact that I'm here or that I'm leaving. I know those of you who know me would find this odd behavior as I make a habit out of making sure everyone in the room knows who I am and what I do and what I'm made of within mere moments, but instead I've spent the past year here trying to keep people from talking to me, flaunting my bad clothing and single visible tattoo as warning that I shouldn't be bothered with. For that part I'm glad. I went to lunch at my favorite restaurant, ate my favorite foods and worked on my favorite job and couldn't be happier. I turn into the reclused outsider when I'm here in this building because I am too different from these people. I could talk and talk to them, go to lunch with them and send them little e-cards with invitation to Longaberger and Pampered Chef parties, but I don't because this life isn't for me. I'm very glad of that. I would like to meet the person who is truly content in this life.... the life of getting into an elevator and barely being able to resist the urge to complain to strangers, going to buy clanky shoes, pick out ridiculous ties and button up shirts for their husband and making sure they are home in time to take their kids to soccer practice in their strangely large vehicles that could house a farm of animals, let alone three kids and their three friends.... a piece. I think of that life and it makes me sad. Truly and genuinely sad and I know it's not for me, so I've changed my life. I've made it what makes me happy. The one thing that could complete that puzzle though isn't a piece that I can decide on. I know now though that just as I've achieved this life that I've known I could make happen that I can't give up on the thing that is missing and I won't. I won't pursue it, but I'll never give up on it. It still makes me smile and makes me feel excited and proud and does crazy things to my insides just at the thought of it. I will never let it go because that's not who I am. I am the person who lets go of things that they abhor and embraces the things they love to the point of obsession and I will never be ashamed of that. And I'm certainly never going to let that thing make me feel any less because of it.