About to Blow   4 comments

Part of being me is being obsessive. I also live in my head. When I first read up on being an Aquarius I was like, “HELL YEAH”, but the truth is I question astrology and all other forms of predetermination. I don’t think they are impossible or evil or hokey. I just don’t really want to put all of my colorful eggs into one classification of basket.
I research everything too. I read mostly non-fiction books and watch things like The History or The Learning Channel as they relate to topics that interest me, but what interests me changes from week to week and my memory and comprehension are a bit wonky so I wonder if it even makes sense to study such things for any kind of educational purpose. But I do and my mind gets opened up and stretched over and beyond the limits of what is deemed normal. I spend a lot of time contemplating things that are illegal, immoral, impossible and insane. And I enjoy it. I enjoy thinking more than anything else; more than the sex, drugs or rock and roll of my past. For anyone who knows me, especially if you had the sheer pleasure of being around me in my 20’s, you know this is a rather powerful statement and I assure you, when it became clear to me I nearly died from shock.
I always thought of myself as a puppet master working the world and my surroundings in some elaborate and highly ridiculous rendition of “Jen in Wonderland”. But as I’ve looked deeper into mental illness, both as an excuse and a vestige of enlightenment it has surfaced and become increasing comforting to take a step back from the strings and see that I am not only innocent of many improprieties, but really a victim of circumstance self-taught to rise above the mundane and aspire to be, at the very least, entertaining.
When I decided to start this blog it was not something I did so lightly. I have several “projects” in the works that, knowing me the way that I do, will never find any sort of conclusion. If I had all of the money in the world, after setting up a mega charity that pretty much solved all of the world’s ills, I would use the rest to hire a well read, rather intelligent, gifted writer with a pesky crystal meth addiction to help me stay on track and work out the stories and endeavors I have given birth to only to leave unattended and fending for themselves in the deeper recesses of my creative mind.
Or maybe I would just do some crystal meth. I haven’t decided. But since the fortune is about as far away from me as the likelihood of me winning the Ms. America Pageant I trust that this decision is one of the times were procrastination and uncertainty really wont matter much in the end.
Getting back to my point, thinking and trying to figure things out are the life force that drives me. I tend to think instantly in metaphors, usually quite appropriate and accurate ones at that. Some reading I did the other day via a website on Personality Disorders said that thinking and using metaphors that much is a symptom so now I’m left contemplating if what has always made me fun, interesting and worth while have really just been undiagnosed and under treated variations of what is considered “sick” about me. If I want the understanding when I have a temper tantrum, become distant, fall off the wagon or actually disappear for days, weeks or months at a time, does that mean that I have to start looking at the things that I like about myself as problems too merely because they fall under such categories?
I know that I have been blessed with truly attentive and caring friends. Family is a bit lacking, but not nearly to the point of some other people’s families that I have witnessed so I still feel lucky to have what I have. And I realize that a lot the distance or misunderstanding between me and some of my family members isn’t their fault so much as it is either mine or simply an unfortunate turn of events. And for the most part, these things are repairable and will be handled in due time. So here I stand, someone with incredible life experiences, tried and true friends and enough decent family that I see where I’ve come from and where I can pretty much always go back to if the notion should ever tempt me. Having what I have and fully trusting in it, just what the hell is keeping me from purely embracing my life and letting go of the burning, nagging need to deconstruct, examine, ponder, pontificate and revel in the madness?
The doctors have all said that I’m too smart for my own good. That doesn’t sit well with me. It reminds me of something a parent would say right before they limit your access to further knowledge because they are worried you might surpass them and therefore lose control over you. I remember my first ever therapist. Three sessions in, she had me helping her figure out what she wanted to do for another patient. The next woman I would go to see for medicine monitoring spent the entire visit each month just talking to me about music because we both liked Radiohead and were going to see them in the up coming tour. I enjoyed the visits, but I wasn’t really getting much help. Last December, when they locked me up for four days, I was brought in on a one on one counseling session of another patient because they wanted my insight.
I was never diagnosed as a narcissist. I am fairly certain I have incredibly low self esteem. But somehow I always find a way to not be the one who needs help when I am in an environment where help could really be afforded me. And this all just makes me grow weary of the entire process. What I really would like is to be locked up for a moderately long period of time so that whatever it is that I do, the game that I play, wears thin and some “eager-to fix” staff member finally sees something that doesn’t seem right.
I am tired of deconstructing myself. I am annoyed with the research and self medicating, self diagnosing manner in which I’ve spent the last twenty plus years of my life. I just want to let it all out. I want to scream and throw a fit in front of a room full of people and get locked up, not because I want the attention or because I’m trying to be scary or cool, but because I am sincerely losing my shit and I’m worried that if things stay contained something big is going to go down. And everything around me is going to go down with it.


4 responses to “About to Blow

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  1. Yes, it’s all mine! Thanks for the kind words about my work and I am glad to know that you were inspired. 🙂

    • Oh, right on! Glad to see words inspire you because it would seem we could go back and forth quite nicely. 🙂 By the way, your “Tangled Hope” reminds me of a phrase I was fond of saying when I was in my 20’s. “The hand of God has crooked fingers.” I’m going to look over more of your work. It’s great.

  2. I know how you feel and I am glad that you put it into words far better that I could have. Thanks.

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