I spent yesterday (my first day off work) worried sick about bed bugs, yeah it did suck. I was once again a participant in an assessment of my mental health. This is about the 7th or 8th time I’ve had this unique pleasure of someone with a degree more than likely from a community college “exploring” my mental health and drug addiction(s). In the past I haven’t had much success with these assessments; for instance two psych ward visits (probably needed those though), placement in rehab (how can I take my lithium when all drugs are prohibited), dropped the f-bomb bigger than shit on a doc (he totally deserved it) and in a my most recent one completely lost trust within 10 minutes of doctors (stop trying to put me on more pills).
I will admit I screwed up and deserved this last assessment from my legal issues (20 hours of class from being resolved though) but to watch the secretary spray down the entire office with disinfectant after I visited with the “community college counselor” was worrisome. Then I overheard said counselor calling corporate to discuss the proper procedure to disinfect the office if a client reports bed bugs (it wasn’t me btw, it was another dirty butt). Not exactly the way I envisioned my first day of freedom from my summer job that seemed a hell of a lot hotter, longer, and not as much fun as it was in college (I did drop like 20 LB’s though, love life still dormant though). As I sat there in contemplation on the consequences of bed bugs (mainly that I’d have to tell everyone I have bed bugs) I began to think, what a crazy problem to have.
It reminds me of the daily, weekly, and just normal crazy problems I have to face in my life on a consistent basis. Finding healthcare, fighting the mania, dealing with depression, worrying about my career, concerns I’ll never be able to support myself, fears of waking up manic or even worse in another psych ward, and the list could continue. I at times envy and resent at the same time people around me for their problems. More times than not over the past three years or so it feels as though the harder I work the further I go backwards (still living off my family for instance right meow).
Then I see people around me finding success in their lives and complaining about it. Maybe it’s just the new “American Way” to bitch all the time but I find it difficult to find pity for your promotion, wedding planning, new home, new member of a family, or whatever “terrible” event in their lives that’s going to cost them so much money. It makes me at times boil inside and makes me want them to have a little taste of my world so they can appreciate theirs so much more.
As difficult as this is at times I need to realize they do not realize what exactly they have or what they’re doing. I may even need to thank most of them because they’ve made this next decision of mine very easy. I grew up in a town that preached the morals of Christianity, to have love and charity towards others that are less fortunate. To treat others as you would want to be treated, and for the most part I see that in my community now even with the “American Way” of bitching. This past summer I spent a majority of it running the business I worked in college as my family member who owns it was hurt in a wreck. I had zero problem helping out, it’s what everyone does when a family needs help in the community (seen it from Stubby to Poncho’s accidents) and he received a ton of support from the community.
Unless of course you have a mental health issue like mine. See no one dropped what they were doing to ever check on me, I didn’t receive one phone call, text message, email, letter or visitor in the past three years checking on me. However they weren’t too busy to expose the real reason I was hospitalized and brought home; drugs you see (yeah not BMD I guess).
I was resentful of this for awhile but I should be thanking them for this. By them I mean all of them, the assessment “counselors”, bed bugs, ungrateful peeps in my life, and my hometown Christian community. If it wasn’t for them I probably wouldn’t have the desire and drive to better myself I have today. Even despite the fact that at times it feels the harder I work the further behind I fall I’m not going to quit. I’m going to keep going and finally make it, because I don’t think I can stand to be around these peeps for the rest of my life (no I take that back, I know I can’t).
Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
Coming Correct,
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