You know what I’m sick of? Besides everything.
The mundaneness of life.
Every morning, I wake and I know exactly what’s going to happen. Even when manic, the mania is kept in perimeters and it drives me crazy.
I hate that I know what my life will be like from now till when I die with just a few kinks along the way.
Don’t get me wrong. Planning isn’t the worst thing. If your plan was to one day ride roller coasters and the next go to a large party, planning isn’t bad. But I could tell you my plan for everyday next term. But everyday for at least two weeks once the holiday ends will go: Dad trys to wake me up, we argue because I am too depressed and too tired to get out of bed, I go to school, I bitch about how much I haven’t slept and how I hate the form tutor because she’s turned into a bitch since she got married, we then go to lessons where I will quickly grow tired of both the lesson and the people and this will continue until I go home, go into the bathroom, change into my pajamas, get into bed, listen to music on my iPod under the covers until 6pm when dad brings me in dinner and then I will either resume my ipod under covers listening or watch something on the computer. It continues.
Many of you may think: Why don’t you do something about it?
What do you propose I do? Join an after school club? Go out into town? These are good ideas of course but they won’t give me the buzz I crave. I know when depressed I hate doing things but in all fairness there isn’t much to do. I am severely limited by my age and the fact I still rely on my father to do things for me.
Mania does give me a break inside my own head but in real life terms how can you tell the difference between a manic teenager and an abnormal but normal one? Which is probably why bipolar isn’t diagnosed at my age.
Sometimes I feel stuck between these two ideas of what I want my life to be like:
One being a psychiatist of sorts after getting a degree, pleasing my family and having a family. But then the other idea is learning to play the guitar or an instrument (though the guitar because it has sentiment as it would be the one my brother got me at the fair), joining a band or something and staying up in the late hours in different cities just doing whatever. I think that would give me more pleasure. But I wouldn’t leave school without A Levels because then school would just be deemed a waste of time
People think that I enjoy gossip because I love bitching about people or having something to hold over them. It’s not true. I enjoy hearing people who have created scandal, who have gone against the social conformity to do something worth talking about. A blowjob in the caretakers room? Sex while the parents are out? Smoking weed at the park? It fills majority of people with contempt and disgust but I honestly feel proud of the bastards who did because they’ve done something they wanted to do and just gone against this box the world shoved itself into.
I’m facisnated by things like the illegal strip clubs of ol’, the secrets women and black people used to have to keep their chins up in the oppressed times. I will always enjoy the underrated movies which you think are highly illogical and not going to happen but they have a point. Like I just finished watching ‘The Dark Knight’ with the Joker played by Heath Ledger, the idea of him is illogical but he had a point. He just went too far in proving it. He said a line that ressonates with me: “We’re all just one push away from madness” and of course madness is now a dergotory word you have to say “mentally ill” or “having a psychotic episode” but the point still stands. A lot of people are a push away from madness and no one can ever be really cured of it because once you’ve seen life from a different angle you’ll want to change that aspect and you’ll spend your life either changing that your life or ignoring that angle.
So would I, if I could follow the unpredictiable, unstable second idea? I would. If I knew I had a sure spot in a band or just hanging around a singer, helping with certain jobs but being in that adreniline fuelled atmosphere, I would. I would like my adrenaline to be used on something more than panic attacks. I think that it’s not only that, but the closeness of being round people who understand you, like a family. Not that my family isn’t wonderful. But they don’t understand much about me, why I enjoy these “wrong” movies, why I listen to “depressing” songs that don’t make sense to them because they’ve all lived these sheltered lives with no problems and my bipolar seems to have crashed my dad’s world and scared my brothers. I just think I’d like to leave for a while into such a place and not return for a year, just so everyone can wonder what I am up to. But of course, I’d post the pictures onto facebook so they can see (though hopefully they find it shocking) but I just want to get out of the mundane, everyday lifestyle before it crushes me.