I don’t understand certain compliments
- When I was visiting family in Florida both my family and psychotherapist said I was “doing a lot better”. I have been getting this from a lot of people actually. I can see how in their minds it’s a compliment but it’s not for me. It’s like, ok what does that even mean? Was I really such a massive trainwreck beforehand? Was I so fucked up that you stopped loving or even liking me? What about when the next catastrophe strikes and I can’t deal? Will I be an even bigger disappointment? Perhaps the most terrifying aspect of this is if I am “improving”, as it were, does this shit ever end? How much further do I have to go? How much more work until I am good enough for you? For myself? I don’t view this as a compliment, more like an anxiety ridden nightmare.
I don’t understand things others seem to live for, ie sex
- This could be anything from technology to video games to sex. But having PTSD and being demisexual in nature I just don’t get it. I mean sex can be fun, but their are so many other amazing things in life from music festivals to cirque du soleil to travelling the world, etc etc I just don’t see the GIANT deal other people make over this.
I don’t understand being told I am gorgeous, beautiful, etc.
- No, I really am not. You just can’t see all my scars and demons. I also modeled for a while and that led to this intrinsic hatred of being judged solely on my physical appearance, apart from stuff like fashion and dressing up for yourself. Key word being for you, not for others.
I don’t understand morning people.
- I don’t feel awake until my mood stabilizers from the night before wore off and my half adderall and starbucks kicks in XD If I wake up not crying for hours (when I wake up crying its the worst. If I cry because something triggers it I can work with that but waking up crying I sometimes can’t get out of this depressed, empty wanting-to-die state for hours or days. It sucks.) Hence, waking up at all at a decent time and not crying is already a very good start. If left to my own devices I will not sleep all night, be up writing or dancing or making grilled cheese at 3 AM and then just pass out for 2 days of sheer exhaustion.
I don’t understand/ENVY when others say they are so grateful for so many things.
- This is more of a mixed depression and jealousy thing, I think. I am literally scared of being grateful for things, being happy scares the living shit out of me because everytime I am happy it is somehow taken away. People and creatures I love die, illness, intrinsic need to self destruct before someone else does it for me? I think this is also very mixed for me because having bipolar, I know that my mania will fade and the darkness will come. Some days I don’t know if I am happy or just manic and think of this TV show, crazy ex girlfriend where Rebecca the main character looks into the mirror and says in this monotone: This is what happiness feels like. That gave me chills.
I don’t understand when other people ask me if I am ok when I am clearly not.
- I have never understood this one. People tend to ask this when I am very clearly not such as crying violently in a public place or puking my guts out, having an anxiety attack, etc. I mean if I was so fucking ok why would you even be asking me this? It’s almost like you want me to lie to assuage your ego, and honestly if you don’t know me why would you even want to know or care? I admit to being sometimes guilty of this myself if I know someone was not feeling well and seems to be doing a lot better, but that is only if they say or look like they are truly feeling better, not in the middle of an obvious physical sickness or mental freakout.
This song represents this pretty well:
Sometimes, I feel like lying to family if they call and I am not ok because
1. My mother is Ms. Fix-everything and it will just lead to a pointless argument over why I am not doing yoga that second or drinking more water or leading a more rigid scheduled life and she doesn’t seem to understand I don’t want fixing. I just want to be accepted in that moment even if I am not ok.
2. My dad has Parkinson’s and honestly if he is in a bad state which is frequent atm, talking to him can just be truly heartbreaking. (Mom, if you are reading this which I know you probably are, I am actually planning on doing yoga with my friend from nearby at her new apartment. I found someone in my building with an adorable dog pickles who said he is available for occasional part time dog walking, as honestly been putting my dog first is a norm for me but I still feel very feverish and low energy esp in mornings (getting over some kind of cold/flu thing) so its good to have a back up so I don’t have to worry about dog care when physically ill and mentally exhausted. Also I am not a naturally scheduled person, its something I try to work on but I honestly suck at it. I know you don’t understand this but hopefully in time you will come to accept it and know I am doing my best. I love you.) I am estranged from my half siblings so at least I am comfortable in the knowledge if I died tomorrow it would honestly not affect their lives whatsoever. But that is a whole other story, and one I am not getting into here.
Things I understand
I understand music
Music, music festival’s , concerts, gigs, musicals, songs on youtube….music has saved my life more than once and helped guide me in this journey more than I can say. I always wished I could sing or played an instrument….I attempted writing a song once, but it may be awful? Not learning more about music and film are two of my biggest life regrets.
I understand when people say the following:
Can I help?
You are not alone.
Lets go do_____ or arrange something fun to do together.
Would you like a cup of tea?
I always find this gives me a warm feeling of solidarity and friendship and makes much more sense than asking someone’s *clearly* altered mental state in that moment. Also, tea is the solution to most things along with the things listed below.
I understand tea, coffee, chocolate, cheese boards and curry
I understand literature.
Apart from music, I think reading has been the other constant lifesaver and guide for me. I admire and glean inspiration from many authors but Francesca Lia Block is pure magick; if I never discovered the Weetzie Bat Books I may never have wanted to pursue writing as an actual career choice.
I understand love.
Love is a dangerous angel. That being said, it is also cuddles and compassion and patience. It is respect and love and warmth. It is my fiance cooking me dinner and my dog rolling over for belly pats. It is going out on adventures with my friends, because friends are the family we choose.
I understand compassion
Sometimes I talk to people and they are just as lonely and sad and isolated as me. They feel that their flaws means that no one will ever love them, and are too scared to venture out in the world for fear of being hurt. I understand you. I am you. Talking to you helped me realize I am doing the exact same things to myself. I wish you could see how beautiful you are the way I see it; how talented and bright your star could shine. Ironically I wish the same about myself.
I understand grief
Most of the time I feel like I have lived through so much. I miss those not in my life and can’t contemplate my life without them in it at times. Basically my first ever friend I made in high school at 13 died at 21 of a heart complication in Brazil….he was a fellow vegan and towering gentle giant with long curly black hair and would wear signs saying “free hugs”. My best friend died at 25 in London of an accidental overdose and another close friend at 24 of anorexia. I often wonder why I am here and they are not. I feel like they were better people than me, apart from my best friend/twin-she was me. It’s hard to explain to anyone in the US that pretty much all of my friends are dead or in London or a combination of the two and no, I am not imagining dead British people 😛 I was just in the UK from around age 16-23, went to Uni there, etc. It feels like I left my heart there most days and its incredibly hard reaching out to anyone here because of my baggage. There is a quote from RENT I love:
“Life’s too short babe, time is flying, I’m looking for baggage that goes with mine.” I went to NY once at 16 and saw RENT on Broadway and ate at the actual Life cafe mentioned in the musical where Jonathon Larson wrote his masterpiece before passing on himself. I loved that NY. I miss that NY. Gentrification has taken over and I feel like Bohemia truly is dead here now 😥
I understand feeling broken
I understand hating wearing a mask every goddamn day of your life because you are constantly criticized on your appearance and life choices (I had anorexia at 13 because I did not eat or dress correctly according to my father and felt like a constant failure with no control over her own life. It was the only time I was ever hospitalized for psychiatric reasons.)
I also understand the pain required in order to heal
You are not a victim. What you are is a survivor and in time you will learn to live again…..slowly you will see you are actually a warrior.