People confound me. Not a certain type of person, character or even any one person in particular, not specifically the nosy neighbour twitching at the curtains nor the postman on his daily rounds, not the obnoxious kid with his negligent mother or the young girls feigning idiocy in a vain attempt to appear more approachable to men, I refer merely to every single person that ever there was or ever will be. Every beating heart, every mouth spewing with love and hate in equal measure, every warm body, every mind and every soul. Each and every one of them leave me flummoxed.
We each hold so much power in our hands, we have the ultimate power to make or break a person with the just the thoughtless or thoughtful words that spew forth, often with a mind of their own. So many people are destroyed every day with just words, cruel, taunting words… and in turn so many people are saved or brought a sense of accomplishment and assurance from mere words; where is the meaning? Where is the recognition of the power we hold? I sometimes wonder if perhaps words mean more to me than they do to other people, I have never told someone I love them unless I genuinely mean it in that moment, I have only ever told one person that I hate them and that is as true this day as it was then, I am always being told that I take things to heart and I know I do but why speak if not with your very soul? What is the point of an utterance if it says nothing about how you really feel and see the world. Words can hurt, words can heal.
I never seem to get relationships with people right. Just as my Bipolar disorder takes me from one extreme to another, high moods and low moods but never a normal mood to be seen, my relationships with people seem to work the same way I either come across as distant and uninterested or I am clingy, needy and slightly overwhelming. I don’t know how to rectify this. It is difficult for me to know how to behave around people; when everyone else was learning their social skills I was battling my mind and trying to keep my head above water; I was isolated, the one in the corner with my head in a book. Is it too late to learn how to relate to people in a normal way?
I grew up always knowing I was in the way, always feeling that I needed to move away, change myself be someone better, Words damaged me beyond repair, mere cruel and often thoughtless words had me believing I was a bad person, I was wrong in everything I uttered, I was worthless and as a result I always felt unwanted. Words can cripple a person and you might not even realise it has happened. It is so difficult for me to let my guard down and allow a person into my life, it is difficult for me to come to rely on someone and I still don’t quite trust that these relationships won’t be gone by morning. So, when I feel wanted, liked and sometimes even needed, I cling to that; I need it like a drug and I am terrified of losing it, of that person waking up one day and realising I’m not at all worth their time – I hold onto it for dear life and I am aware that can be somewhat suffocating for the recipient.
I am certain I have hurt many with my words and I have also helped – I am not innocent in this abuse of power our entire species seems to have but I will pledge to be more mindful of what spills from my mouth from this day. There is power in words.
My new medication is messing with me, my mind is swamped – there are side-effects galore, there is a deep depression once more and life has less meaning than it used to. I see clearly in the mirror now and what faces me is not pleasurable. What will save me now? Who am I?
It would seem that every facet of my life is all or nothing, there is no in-between… I will never be anything other than who I am, mediocrity has abandoned me, I am not normal.