Been a rough couple of weeks.  Been thinking a lot about how I interact with the world given that through no real fault of my own I belong to a category of individuals that have historically been subject to separation and ostracization.

By which I mean I am, by popular belief and definition, “mentally-ill”.  I see a therapist, I’m a member of a weekly group-therapy session, and I try to keep it all under a tight lid; the operative word in this case being “try”.  I can’t imagine it’s easy for people dealing with me who don’t know what’s going on in the background.  Sometimes my ability to “deal with things” oscillates between “totally got this” and “disaster-piece”, and it likely catches a lot of people off-guard.  There’s likely been more than a few times where things I’ve said or done haven’t been terribly rational or well thought-out, but in remembering a lot of these instances, I hope that what comes across the clearest is that I mean well.

I don’t mean to be as excitable, annoyed, or passionate about things that are fairly minute, but it happens and sometimes I can’t catch myself.  Similarly, there are sometimes entire weeks-long periods where I feel paranoid about how other people see me, how other people perceive my abilities and skills, and times where unprovoked thoughts just utterly conquer my attention and make it impossible for me to function as a person.  I’m likely not alone in this, but there have been times where I’ve watched the subway train coming into the station and without even an ounce of provocation, it just takes hold:

It’s just one step off of the platform as it comes rushing into the station–one step could make everything easier on so many people.  One less person clamoring for attention and validation, one less broken human in the world, one single instant of pain and it’d be over.

The suffocating sense of worthlessness and sadness that I fall into can only really be countered with caffeine or loud, angry music.  Better to be angry and feel the blood coursing through my body than to die without having tried.  Some illusory sense of merit and effort rather than a sense of having “given up”.

I honestly hope that other people can see that I’m trying.  I mean well and I want the best for everyone, and I don’t mean to be as difficult to interact with as I can be in some situations.  All I need and can ask for is your patience in dealing with me and understanding that there is effort being invested, it’s just that sometimes it’s not as successful as the situation demands.

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