I mean, I have criticised Tom the dopehead/asshole for self-censoring and polishing up his online presence for his parents' and his wife's parents' sake, and here I am, not posting anything for weeks, just because I don't want my mommy and daddy to hasten to me with their uncomprehending concern and state their depression due to my depression. What a hassle, right?
Thus, needing an outlet, I registered at the Bipolar 4 All forum and posted a few posts that (almost immediately) got me kicked and banned (the last post, I'd like to note, was posted specifically in a forum designed for posts deemed potentially upsetting or damaging to other users - and I was still too much for them). Such self-appointed censors and amateur, pick-and-choose support-group primadonnas, as I later told the forum's owner, have no place counselling people with real problems. Thus, here I am again, at the centre of my personal universe, where I should have been to begin with; so what are the problems at hand?
a) I cannot post what I really think or feel on my own damn website - which is going to end right this moment (problem solved).
b) Bipolar disorder drives me to thoughts of self-harm and suicide but the Anti-Suicide Chip™ that Paul, Blazej and I installed in our heads years ago no longer allow any of us to do harm to ourselves (and I think the chip has the strongest effect on me, of the three; again, problem solved); I still need to talk about this, though, for obvious reasons.
What's left? Well, c) The sense of existential pointlessness, purposelessness and meaninglessness - that makes a bipolar person at a downswing feel like a flesh and blood automation, plodding through a daily life so viscous that it might as well be buried alive six feet underground, clawing to get out - a sensation that can only be sated with visceral pleasure.
As side effect of the whole affair is a hole in the heart (albeit, recently filled - but if you think I'm going to talk about this right now, you've got to be kidding) and a hole in the head (I still haven't written anything good in ages - though sources suggest that I have become too judgmental of my own work, and that for my own sake I should just write).
Most importantly, though, there is d) The inability of my parental units (and a few other key individuals) to reconcile the negative inevitability of my physical condition (i.e. my bipolar disorder, nothing more, nothing less) and the positive effects of my present employment and living arrangements (i.e. my job friggin' rocks!).
My god, the people who gave me birth cannot comprehend that cause and effect do not always apply to the flesh world; they take two and two and get four, and then, when I get five, they look at me in disbelief, as if I made an error in math, and say: "No, no, no, you're wrong, look, we did the math and got the right result! Everything works on our end. Something on your end must be wrong; check your math." and so it goes, on and on and on, in circles and other unwanted and unneeded shapes.
Look; here's the down-low for the folks keeping score at home:
• I love my job and it teaches me a lot of method, technique and psychology with regard to students of many ages and previous educational backgrounds (let alone with regard to myself!); it teaches me introspection, perseverance and patience.
• I love Japan but I harbour no illusions. I feel it's more democratic than Canada, but also that it is a temporary escape from Vancouver, the dysfunctional life with my parents (by no fault of theirs; we are who we are), and the dreaded M.A., which I still plan to do once I pay off the bulk of my student loan and credit card debts (for which, by the way, I have recently set up a cheap and reliable transfer method, through Lloyd's TSB).
• I love my apartment. I take much pleasure in cleaning it, making it comfortable, in paying for my bills and doing my finances, and in just sitting around and enjoying my little kingdom. Life is good.
• I love my computer. Other than some earlier data loss, it runs perfectly and I am always adding to it, little by little, dipping a little into my food budget every once in a while (having said that, I eat quite well, now that Pat, et alii have been telling me about the best deals around the local supermarkets and specialty food stores.
That's about it - and this applies to anyone and everyone - if there's no news, it means I am burrowing into myself because otherwise I would explode in your face, like something between a cumshot and a hand grenade. When there will be glorious highs and words and colours, I'll make sure you'll see them here; otherwise, leave me the hell alone and stop judging me by your own standards.
There is normalcy: having a hardcoded limit on depression and maniacal highs is normalcy; what I have is most definitely not normal, but I'm dealing with it like a pro, am I not? I'm not giving into the quick-fix-quick-break promise of medification. I'm not cutting myself. I'm not hitting myself. I'm not attempting suicide. I get headaches. I get really depressed sometimes, and sometimes I get high. It's all chemicals. It's all nice and rational - just not your kind of rational. Believe me, and you will never have to think (let alone tell me) how I feel. Fuck off, and I will let you in.
Well, this felt rather good. I have the entire discography of Radiohead and a female form, that shall for now remain unnamed, to thank. Good stuff. Class dismissed.
P.S. For those who stayed in class after the lecture, here is some food for thought: bipolar disorder is a combination of heredity and environmental triggers; this is a fact. Instead of rationalisiting what you cannot understand or trying to force it into the framework of your own Weltanschauung, start thinking about facts of life that are entirely not up to you, and how you yourself deal with similar situations and conditions.
Fight the system!!!! Screw those censoring bastards...................
Start your own uncensored/no holds barred community!!!
A new Utopia for Mike!!! (Like SeaLand)
ermmm...........
I have no idea what i just said
AHAHAHAHA! Oh, man! Did you finally get totally drunk off your ass? Awesome. No, but seriously: "Coming Soon: Mike's Insane-o-Land." It's a work in progress. ;)
i can't wait!!
Hehehe. ;)