Positively Scarred

It’s been a while since I posted anything of real substance, anything that meant something. Mostly because I’ve been getting stuck: not exactly writer’s block because I know what I can say or should say or want to say, but the words just don’t flow naturally. So here I am, at 1:30AM, carrying something worth writing about.

A little back story: I kind of went a little batshit insane Tuesday and was mad at the world. Not to mention I woke up to several missed calls and texts from various people and it just annoyed the fuck out of me. I posted a big “fuck off, fuck you” status on Facebook, which I later took down. I just needed to be by myself. In this whole process, however, I ended up [most likely] fucking up a good thing I had going.

My actions sent up red flags. I was accused of being bipolar. “Go get checked out,” he told me, “Same thing happened with a girl I dated once. She said the same stuff and sure enough she blew a fuse.” I was more upset at the fact that he was comparing me to someone who is NOT me than the fact that he was accusing me of having a disorder that I do not have. I’ve been to various doctor’s and I’ve only ever been diagnosed with panic disorder, social anxiety disorder, and depression. I’m embarrassed by my actions and for how I handled myself. And I told him so.

Hoping for things to be fixed, I apologized profusely. I just wanted to be past all of this. I explained about the anxiety and depression. Apologized more. I told him to not compare me, because comparing makes things more difficult, and by comparing you’re pretty much telling me that YOU can’t get past something. He said he’s afraid of it happening again, me going postal and being angry at the world. I’ll admit, I get mad. I get mad at myself, at situations, at people, but I’m usually way more composed than I was Tuesday.

Trying to sympathize and relate to what he was telling me, I told him that I, too, am afraid. I’m afraid he will begin to exhibit behavior like my ex. But I trust that he won’t. I hope that he won’t. That I’m willing to give it a shot even though it scares me. I told him that if you can’t go thinking something is going to happen continuously because it happened with a previous person. That you have to trust that this could be different. I ended the spiel with, “If your gut is telling you something is wrong here, that this is not right, then go with that feeling. I’ll understand. I’ll be upset, but I will understand.”

“I’ll sleep on it.”

And then the conversation was over.

At first I was freaking out, because what if I really am bipolar and it’s just been overlooked all these years? Should I make a doctor’s appointment? Do I need to talk to my mom about it? This all basically lead to a self-evaluative crisis: I’m worried I’m not good enough for him. I’m intimidated. I’m afraid.

Things were put into perspective when a friend said, “If you never get upset, if you never get exalted, if you never get depressed, if you never feel real emotion? THEN you’re a motherfucker with a problem. Feeling real things isn’t a disorder, failing to feel real things is.”

And they’re completely right. Why should I feel so horrible about FEELING? About having emotion? When I was on medication for my “issues,” I didn’t feel ANYTHING. I was a stone. I was lifeless. I felt but I didn’t FEEL. I laughed but it was hollow. I smiled but it was empty, like a face painted on a porcelain doll. I was numb. I hated it… So I’m not going to feel bad that I had emotion or that I felt something. Or that I feel a variety of emotions in any given situation(s). I’m human. Part of being human is having emotions. Isn’t that was separates us from animals?

I admit, yes, I shouldn’t have reacted how I did. I should have composed myself more… I know this, I understand this, and I’m going to work on this.

If he decides that dating me is not a good idea for him, then I’m perfectly fine with that. I will probably cry and feel upset. But I’m human and it’s alright for me to feel that way.