It's Hard Being a Sad Little Bitch

When I was younger I acted like a jackass when the mood suited me. As a bipolar individual the mood was not always in my favor. But when it was I would say and do just about anything. I did not know I was bipolar. I have always been an artistic individual and I attributed my behavior to being an artist and a thespian. I assumed everyone wanted to act as I acted but they simply did not possess my thick skin or back bone for that matter. I mean doesn’t every sober girl want to flash their tits at people?

When I got older and began working in a professional environment I tried to curb my behavior because I was smart enough to know tit flashing is the kind of stuff that gets most people fired. This of course did not mean I could not dance on my desk or do somersaults down the hallways. I carried a toy water gun and would often fall to the ground and roll as I walked past co-workers. Oh I know they wanted to do it to---didn’t they? If anything I was very entertaining. I was the one to come to when you needed something said or done but you did not have to hutzpah to do it yourself. That’s when I was feeling good. It is during these crazy times you have more energy both physically and mentally. I swear I am a creative genius, I can do just about anything.

For one reason or another other people find these qualities very attractive. They like hanging out with the idiot who acts like a rock star. But when your down, they don’t like you quite as much. When you are feeling your worst your depression is exacerbated by the fact your so called friends fail to see your value as a human friend or otherwise when you are not busy at work providing them with fodder for water cooler tales.

Cycling into depression is a horrible feeling. I may assume there are people who get far more depressed than I. Or maybe they experience it in different ways. I have one girlfriend who recently confided in me that when depressed she stays in bed for days wearing depends so she simply has no reason to leave the bed. It’s not like that for me. When I am feeling depressed I am preoccupied with suicide. I make preparations –if only in my head. Everything seems absolutely hopeless. Its during these times I have my greatest setbacks. I have left college three times now. Credit wise I am a senior but I am really nowhere close to graduating – I ‘m not attending school now. I am starting to wonder if doing so is pointless.

It creeps up on you in such a way yet you know that it is coming. When I am what I consider to be level I do very well in school. I am also able to manage school with home with not near as much difficulty. But one day you go to class and I find a million thoughts racing in my head. Everything outside seems to be noise pollution. I struggle to listen to the professor. I am listening but I really don’t hear what he or she is saying. I become overly concerned with my classmates. It is fair to say I am paranoid. The anxiety is so great it is difficult to sit through class but I am certain the longer I sit the more reason my classmates will have to talk about me after class. In reality I am old enough to be their mother. They don’t give a rats ass about me or what I do. But the fear I feel at that point in time is very physical. You go to class the next day and the next day hoping it gets better. Pretty soon you skip out every other day. Skip certain classes altogether and then you just don’t go at all. The sadness is overwhelming and perpetuating. People will tell you that there are triggers for the highs and lows. I know sometimes that is the case. But sometimes for reasons I simply do not know I cycle back and forth. I might not have a real reason to be depressed. But I feel that way none the less, and by the time I leave school I do have the reason I was lacking to begin with. Years will go by and I'll try again-maybe.