My Bipolar Journal - Episode 223

My Bipolar Journal – Episode 223

December 15, 2008

What’s so wrong with not being you? I guess it means I’m supposed to take medicine until I feel like you. I’ll interpret that as normal and then go put myself in some stupid box with the same stupid job and some stupid person who wants to make stupid little persons. I’d go get a piece of paper that would make me feel like I’ve now accomplished being just like you. I’d yell excitedly when people throw balls and catch them and get them into holes or over a line or between poles or in nets as it’s an actual accomplishment. And I would believe it were an accomplishment. I would stay in my box and when people did things like get in their cars and go to places I would be surprised. I would say things like, “I have to be up early in the morning” and “I’m getting old” and “Well, because you’re supposed to be in a relationship with me”! Everything would survive on the word supposed. You’re supposed to mow your lawn, you’re supposed to think kids are adorable, you’re supposed to go on vacation once a year, you’re supposed to have a bank account, you’re supposed to try very hard to live this life and be just like these people. I’d believe it makes me special and would take no time to feel if I were truly happy or truly content or truly special. I’d tell small lies that wouldn’t hurt people or I would tell lies that benefit me or I’d tell lies that make kids believe in Santa Claus but not Harry Potter, that it’s OK to live in Munchkinland but not Middle Earth. The only good sex for me would be sex in a committed relationship. Sex outside that relationship would be no good, not that I would even be able to find the time to have an “affair” outside of my busy schedule of picking up people, training them to be like me and keeping everyone else thinking that I’m normal by having a headache every night to avoid the only good sex I’m supposed to be having anyway. I would train my children to believe that they could be anyone they wanted to be and do anything they wanted to do as long as it didn’t involve promiscuous sex, drugs, incorrect religions, wrong jobs, not settling down and meeting the right man, being homeless, getting arrested, being gay, having tattoos or piercing or involving yourself with any of those people… well, unless they become a Good Samaritan and save their souls. I would eat yogurt every morning and eat things until I said, “After you eat it for a while it actually starts to taste good” all so I could live longer in a place I didn’t even like. I’d say things like, “That’s too much information” but then encourage others to learn as much as they can. I’d only eat turkey once a year and when I was done say, “I’m going on a diet as soon as it’s the new year”. I’d have a lot of friends with vaginas and we would get really excited about large building full of a bunch of smaller rooms that all sold the same things and say things like, “Oh, stop!” whenever we mentioned anything about our sex lives. I would think that things like a day at the spa were the most awesome gift from my children and rocks and metal were the best gifts one could ever receive from my husband. I’d complain about home when I was at work and complain about work when I was at home. I’d say, “Oh, I’m being so bad” when I have an ice cream cone.

I’m sure there are more things, but if ever approached… that’s exactly what’s wrong with being you. But that’s me and I’m not trying to make you be like me.