Hell is still overburdened, I must stand and wait in line. Seems I have commitment treason; all I have sacrificed, led to nothing.
This is one of those blog entries that stay for weeks without being published because when i read them later in the drafts I wanna change a lot and probably take out chunks of it, but i have to fight it since it will ruin the general vybe i had at the time of writing.
It has been little over a week since I got off the bipolar medications, not because the shrink told me to, but because I said so (said with a lisp); my body, my rules! I can choose to go back to doing drugs and shit and nobody can do jack about it, not my family not my friends not anyone. Funny enough I miss having conversations with myself, because in the long run you realize the only person you can really ever trust is yourself, those voices in my head that I stilled, they were never wrong. People will always pretend to be your friends (or soul-mate) and stab you in the back, people will try to change you, yet Mother Nature intended us to live free and wild. Now, in the current societal norm, that has to be within certain boundaries I guess; you know, my freedom to throw my fist anywhere ends where the other person’s face begins and that type of shit. I long for the time I can afford (figuratively and literally speaking) to let out my inner demons to roam free the way they were meant to and desire. Good guys ALWAYS get fucked! That’s one life lesson you gotta take to heart.
Anyway, getting off the medications isn’t a walk in the park, as I came to realize (ok, I already knew). Since I got on them my body started to rely on them just like narcotics and it seems, like a hooker leaving her pimp, you don’t just get to walk away. Let’s start with the headaches, dear Lord they’re freaky and painful, unlike regular migraines these ones have more oomph in that I feel like somebody is electrifying my brain every few seconds, it’s kinda hard to describe the sensation without shuddering. But I can take it, been through worse shit and lived to tell the tale. I have to take the occasional pill when it gets really unbearable, but I’m able to stay off them for increasingly longer periods.
So why am I getting off the meds without telling the doctor? [He will know soon enough, right about the time I publish this, and we’ll save the insurance company thousands] From of the top of my head: I came out of the depression that had plagued me for little over two years, in that all the negative stimuli that caused it has been removed from my life i.e. I’m no longer stressed, I’m no longer bankrupt [ok I’m netting way way less than I used to, but I’m not broke], I no longer trust people in general, I changed friends and got rid of the stupid friends, and the number one reason: I finally took control of my emotions! Feelings are stupid; they get you vulnerable, used and hurt. I love my family and all, but that’s pretty much it, rather, as far as I will let them (the feelings) go from now on. In as much as the meds helped take away my depression, they really reduced my creativity. The irony is that the random patterns of thought that gave me all the symptoms of being bipolar, the mania and all that [excluding the lows] made me more creative.
My life has always been an open book, not because I want people in my life, but because I don’t give much of a crud about what people think of me to hide anything. When I was confirmed to be this…you know, the b-word, I didn’t hide it, even if it was a bitter pill to swallow, I took it in stride. If I was gay I wouldn’t hide it [but I don’t push my right to be straight down anyone’s throat or expect a celebration, gays take notice]. So just because you know shit about me doesn’t mean I care(d) enough about you; it just means my ability to give a fuck is so little you can’t even blackmail me, because what you may presume is a dirty little secret is everyday information to everyone else. So, even in the instances I learn of people talking about me behind my back, I just shrug it off. Amazingly enough, I’m not even curious who it is, or what, or the context because that is how much I give a fuck! That is just what life made of me.
If there’s one thing I have learned over time, it’s that people care too much about perception by others. Too many times we’re so busy looking over our shoulders to check if anybody has seen us or is looking that we fail to notice the next step we’re about to take. I guess I’m just recently learning that the one thing I did right before in my life was not caring about what people want me to be. If I had just continued to ease my life into the contours of my desires I would be in a much happier, better place. And that is what is wrong with our society. I am what is wrong with our society. We want so much to live the lives of others that we forget we have our own desires. We don’t all want the same things. Frankly, that is why we don’t seem to have enough resources. We have been conditioned to think we all want the same things. Call it capitalism, blame the media or whatever you want, bottom line is we have affixed ourselves to such few fixed options it was only natural that they wouldn’t be enough and we’d break down into castes i.e. the haves, could haves and have nots; also leading to the buildup in sensationalist bullshit where we have this inexplicable interest in celebrities and royalty. Ok, I digress. Never meant to talk of capitalism, sustainable development, resources, celebrities and all that in this entry; I’ll cover that in more detail some other time, plus I need to do more research before I cover such topics as an expert[actually I am an expert on sustainable development and resource management ahem], but you get the gist.
My point in all this: be yourself, eat life with a big spoon. Follow your heart and never be afraid to explore your desires. And most importantly, people will always have an opinion about your life whether you’re good or bad, the important thing is not to listen and live your life. I’m avoiding the word “haters” but most people bitch about others because they (the bitchers) aren’t really that interesting; really in the long run what matters is what you think of yourself. Just remember not to step on peoples toes unnecessarily, remember that thing I said about where your freedom of expression ends. And by living with these tenets your life will be so much happier. If I have committed any fallacy, consider it intentional.
Keep well mes amies.