I'm up, I'm down, I pull myself up and I sink back down. I walk around my house and all I do is sigh.
Just once, I would love for my emotions to be on a stable ground without having to take drastic measures. When I say something to my doctor, she recommends counseling. Now that would be fine if every single therapist I speak to about my moods says that my massive moods swings are because I basically live in a fantasy world.
Okay so yeah I do, I will admit that one free and clear. I have lived in my own private fantasy world for years now. In that world, I am loved by not only my friends; all of them all of the time. No one takes advantage of me, no one pays attention to me ONLY when they need to vent on me or lay their problems at my feet. No one expects me to be the stalwart little soldier who stands tall and doesn't cry that I'm expected to be in reality. I'm not saying that I am the center of attention in that world because I'm not. Really I never see myself as that; I never want to be that. I've never wanted people catering to my every desire or making sure that above anything else, I had what I wanted. That's not my style but in the happy bright world, I do have what I want and need at no expense to others. And they have what they need at no expense to me.
Here in the real world, I'm loved, I know I am. But it's a fractured kind of love. My kids love me but honestly, sometimes I think if I were to drop dead tomorrow, they'd miss me but they'd be okay. And that's crazy because isn't that what every parent wants for their child?? To know that if something happened to them that second, their kids would be able to survive? I want that but I don't. It's very confusing. My mom loves me, I know she does. I'm her only child and I have had her undivided attention for years upon years. That's where we have a fissure though. I'm the only. Whereas other parents have a couple of kids and refuse to let the younger grow up, My mom has had no one to let go of therefore, no matter what I do, a piece of me is still a sixteen year old kid who doesn't know how to survive without being told what to to do, how to do it, and when or why. I get around it. It's reality. I have friends who love me but that's where we have another fissure. I have friends that love me for me. They don't care if I'm up or down, if I'm down or out. If I'm up, they roll for the ride and when I'm down they try like hell to make waves to get me up again. But I also have friends who really honestly couldn't give a rats ass about me unless they need something from me. Most notably the ones that call me to tell me about ALL the crap they are going through but when the point in the conversation is reached where they ask me if I'm okay comes up... they have to go. Everytime. I can't tell any of my other friends about these friends because then they tell me to drop said friends and said friends were there for me when other people weren't so really, isn't it my turn to take one for the team and listen?
Here in reality, no one loves me the way a man should love a woman. Here in reality, I get up every day and see my kids and listen to my girls jabber about people at school and when they think I'm not in hearing range, jabber about the boys they like. I would give my eye teeth to go back to a time as easy as elementary school. To pass a note in class that says Do you like me? Check yes or no.
In my dream world, that guy always checks yes and no matter what we walk off into the sunset. I don't know if we stay happy in the sunset or we date for a bit then break up and stay good friends but dammit at least he walked into the sunset with me. At least he kissed me. At least he gave me a chance.
My book is finally being published. I can't tell you how over the moon I am about that. It has literally been a lifelong dream to be published. and now it;s coming true but you know what? As happy as I should be about that, I find that I'm worried about how it will be received. Will people look at it in the bookstore, maybe read the back and then put it back? Or will they read the back and think "Oh wow, this sounds awesome" and buy it, and read it, and convince others to buy it, and read it and so on and so forth?
The stress of all of that is enough to crack the shiny surface alone. Add the other stuff and really? Is it a wonder I prefer to live in the world where I'm a best selling author with the guy who walked into the sunset with me?
So back to the therapist/ counselor/ psychiatrist. They insist that I live in this world but I need to come out of that world and stay here in reality and you know what? They can help with that with fruity tasting behavioral pills that make the voices go away. They make me see this reality as the only reality
And that depresses me even more. So they up the meds and I'm basically a puppet who laughs if the mood seems to be jovial, who is caring if that's what needed but basically silent and waiting for the cue card to tell her what the say/do/feel all the rest of times. I don't write, I don't edit I don't even read when I do the meds and zombie out.
Does anyone else struggle with their psyche the way I do mine. I feel like I'm in a never ending battle to stay sane and not climb a clocktower.
And if I see this damn shadow dart past me again I swear I'm going to lose my mind. I have been seeing it for days now!
What the hell is wrong with me??
