A misunderstanding.

Wow. I think judging by the responses to yesterday’s blog post, you all got it wrong, well, I put it out there wrong. Because the common thing was that post and how it probably seemed.

I was getting out my anger. I have a lot of that at the moment. I think it gets stirred up sometimes when things occur. It was my father’s birthday just recently and that sure as hell fires up my brain with all the thoughts.

I know some of you mentioned me being down. I’m not. I am a happy person. Ironic, I know. I have depression, but I consider myself a happy person. Or at least, a positive person. I have depression. It’s a little chemical torturous bastard inside my head that tries to lie to me. Tries to steal my happiness, and in those best times when I am achieving things I want, it will whisper at me, “well what’s the point in doing that?” I think that is not the same as being a sad person, or a miserable person, or in some deep dark hole. I refuse that part. Of course, I have down days, and sad days and days where I have to fight to get myself out of bed, but I am not negative.

Yesterday’s post was just an expression of some things—an outlet for me. It was about a few things really. About anger, about when my brain tries to make me fall apart. About friendship … mostly about friendship.

I struggle to have friends. Not because of them, but because of me. I think it can be even worse if you know my story, because there’s this sort of pity there, and that’s fine. You’d not be human if you didn’t feel some pity to the things in my books. People who know my story think the things that are wrong with me, can be fixed, but they can’t. No. I am me.

As I have got older, I have reached a place where it is more, this is me, accept me or don’t. I have problems. I have mental health issues. Aside from Depression, I also have OCD and borderline personality disorder. I was also diagnosed with a touch of DIDNOS. If you don’t know what that is, it stands for dissociative identity disorder not otherwise specified. Basically, it is like having an identify disorder, but not quite. I am sure you’ve seen split … not that it is like that for me, but that is full blown DID. It’s like having different personalities for different tasks. It makes for an interesting thing with me, and quite scary to share here because the movie world has made that illness into something of a scary aspect of mental health.

I do also suffer from derealisation, which is as it sounds, I quite often don’t feel realty. Literally, I don’t feel like I exist. It is one heck of a weird feeling when it happens, and probably the one thing I hate the most. I was about nine when that developed. I guess it was a coping mechanism at the time.

You can imagine, being in my head is not always fun. Being my friend is even harder. And I’m not being all low self-esteem like when I say it is hard to be friends with me. It is. I have meltdowns. I go from calm to manic in a few seconds. Especially if my abandonment issues get triggered.

I say the wrong things.

I jump in and out of versions of myself. People who talk to me, may or may not notice the DIDNOS part of me and how I can switch into different (I’d say personalities, but it isn’t quit that.) more like versions of myself.

The problem I was having is that sometimes people get mad with me. I frustrate them, because what seems normal to someone else, isn’t for me. I remember upsetting a friend because her son was sick, and I didn’t ask if she was okay. I didn’t ask, because her son was sick, I knew she wasn’t okay. To my head, it was a pointless question, but my lack of question meant she thought I didn’t care. I did. I just didn’t know what to do or say.

If someone cancels plans on me, it’s like they’ve told me they’re going to die. It is that serious to me. That little child version of myself hops on out and throws out the emotions of the kid who was left on the side of the road by his parents at age 7. I can’t help it. It’s like a cancellation touches that wound, and out he comes, fears and tears and everything else. And there is nothing you can do to calm me down. Let me ride it out, let me shout, accuse, whatever it is. That issue for me is like a chain reaction.

Cancelled plans = child meltdown = other person not understanding and trying to reason like an adult … it isn’t an adult they’re really dealing with = self-harm, panic attacks and suicidal thoughts because right then, that little boy inside is seeing how hated he must be and wanting to end the pain.

I am a quiet person, but I am also a chatter box. Depends which part of me you get. Sometimes I will talk your ear off, laugh, joke and all other things. Other times, I won’t speak to you for days. I can imagine how hard that is for someone else … someone who doesn’t understand and thinks it’s personal. It isn’t. I promise you.

I very rarely start conversations, in my personal life or on Facebook. Not because I don’t want to, but because I get afraid the other person won’t reply. It’s easier for me to say nothing, than to risk even the slightest bit of rejection.

The more you get to know me, the more I start to think you won’t like me. If I talk about something, I can guarantee the next day, I am thinking to myself, god, you must hate me and wish I’d shut up. And this comes from the child part too. If my own parents couldn’t like me, how will anyone else?

This leads to my self-harm tendencies too. Usually I get mad at myself for saying something dumb. Out comes the little blade and the swearing at myself.

It’s fucking nuts living in my head. I tell you.

It’s very misleading being my friend too. Because you’ll know me first as a normal person. That part of me comes out, and chats to you like the next person and the next, but the more I get to know you, the comfier I get, and the more the other parts of me will come out. And this person trying to be my friend, comes down the road with me.

I don’t know if I explain it well enough.

Imagine there is version #1. That’s the version everyone sees first. He’s friendly, happy, no problems. Strong, whatever. Just a normal guy.

Under that is version #2. He’s got a little problem, but not much. It’s manageable. Sometimes he just can’t get out of bed. And that’s okay.

Version #3 is a little worse than #2

Then there are, #4, and 5 and 6 and so on, until you get to #9. This is the one that is broken in so many ways. The child I guess.

The more of my friend you get, the closer you get to peeling it all back and finding #9.

You know the song, Unwell by Matchbox Twenty. The part

 

But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell
I know right now you can’t tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see
A different side of me.

 

That’s it. That’s exactly what it is like. And what happens is the person wanting to be my friend can’t cope. They can’t understand and they ask me to stop. Ask me to change or be better, and I can’t.

And if you’ve read Teddy, and then ask me to be well … this was where yesterday’s post came from. I can’t switch myself off and be what people want. I can only be me … the raw, hard to live with, hard to be friends with, version of me.

If you had a friend who ran marathons, and then suddenly got hit by a car, ended up disabled and in a wheelchair, which meant you now had to push them around in the chair all the time and it was damn tiring, would you ask them to try to walk?

I think not. This is the same for me.

People keep expecting me to walk, and I can’t.

 

Sorry it’s such a long post, and if you’ve read it all. Thank you all so much for replying, for listening. I hope you understand some things above. They’re bloody scary to share. You know, because my head wants to tell me the admittance of things is likely to send you running.

 

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8 thoughts on “A misunderstanding.

  1. This is who are, just like your eye color. Not something you can change or would I ask you to change. No need to hide who you are are how you feel. You know all my faults and we are still friends, then I hope you believe that the opposite is true. You haven’t stopped caring about me so in the same way, I won’t stop caring about you and being your friend! I hope that made sense.

  2. You are who you are! So what if there are different levels of YOU!!! That is you. If someone wants to be a friend to you, that means…. accepting ALL of you! Many people have different “versions” of themselves. Maybe not as many levels. People who care and want to be your friend, will do just that! Be your friend!!! People want you to change, well… just kick’em to the curb! You are better off without them! I’m just a person you don’t know, and I think you are AMAZING!

  3. I’m never going to say I understand where you’re coming from because I dont. I understand depression because I have it. But we all have different kinds of depression. Ok, maybe not different kinds but different strengths of it. Shit that’s not the right word. Umm maybe the way to say it is, someone’s depression hits harder for them than mine and vise versa?
    What I will tell you is I would accept all of you. The good, bad and the ugly. Why? Because we are all not perfect and not normal. No one is normal or perfect. We all suffer from something. Maybe not as bad as others and in many different ways, but we are definitely not normal. If a person can’t accept you for you, then they shouldn’t be a friend to begin with. A friend should be there no matter what. Even with the marathon scenario you mentioned. Just because he’s bound to a wheelchair doesn’t mean you walk away. You just need to accept he can’t walk anymore.
    And I can guarantee right now I would accept all of you. Love all of you and know when to give you the space you need. But you fucking bet, I’d be right back with you when your ready. My father is a great example of why I speak the truth. Yes, he’s my dad and you’ll probably say ” but that’s different Jo, you have to be there for him and love him because well, he’s your dad.”
    That’s not true because my sister stopped helping him. I took over. She couldn’t deal with his “shit” anymore. She got too annoyed with him. Saying why can’t he just change? Make himself stop drinking? Why won’t he just want to be better?
    All I say to her is he’s 62 for one and its pretty impossible to get him to change his ways now. And 2, you just have to love him and be there for him. That’s it. Simple. At least in my eyes.
    Yes, this is not how my father always was. Growing up was a different version of my dad. He was strong. Nerves of steal. Healthy. And this version now is not the same man. But I will always accept any version of him and love him because simply. HE’S. MY. DAD. Yes he frustrates me to no end lol, but I would never abandoned him.
    So…..I will always be your friend James. Shit I might just annoy you sometimes lol.

  4. That was perfect.
    Unlike you.
    Unlike all of us.
    Reading this one brought back a lot of memories. Good and bad. But all for the best.
    The best that is you.

    I think fear of rejection, is one’s greatness weakness… or it can be.
    I admire your courage in the face of such unsureness. How you have overcome so many obstacles… and continue to do so. Always have.

    Not making excuses for myself – for jumping your ass and calling you out on that last post. As it was done out of love… but also out of fear. I’ve seen how far that you have progressed, in basically a short amount of time, and to think that you were back in that “place,” with everything to attacking you, (again) well, I could not just sit back and pity you. It scared the hell out of me.
    I thought you were back at square one… or headed there. That you’d been doing an excellent job of hiding it. (No surprise) And that you had slipped. Hence your post.

    I apologize. I should’ve had more faith in you. Again, no excuses.

    Takes a lot to wake up ol’ Mama Bear, and get her to come down off her rock. So congratulations. 😉
    But seriously, I will do it, if I think it’s needed. If only, and especially… for you.

    No matter how quiet I am, (as of late, some events have caused my view of the world to change a bit 😑) make no mistake, NO mistake, you are one of the most important people in my life. You, and everything that comes with you, mean the world to me. Nothing will ever change that. I know you know that… I just wish you’d believe it.

    You have no idea how much my heart swells, when I see all the love given to you across all your pages. I won’t take advantage, and say, I told you so… but I did. 😉
    You’ve worked so hard to get here, to this place and time in your life. I know the work will never be over, but It has been a privilege to both, be able to watch and to be a small part of it.

    As always, keep going, Baby. Don’t let anyone hold you back.
    … and just a tiny suggestion, perhaps, in the future, a disclaimer might be helpful? Hmm?
    Love you.
    NMW.

    “Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.”
    Theodore Roosevelt

  5. Every time you share things, I don’t think you realize how much you help somebody understand their own self.

  6. Thank you for helping us, your friends, understand you better. In many ways, we all have different versions of ourselves. Maybe ours are not as dissociative as yours, but we still can understand you. And many of us deal with depression. I have chronic depression. Currently, it is under control, but I worry about when it will rear it’s head again, and I’ll take to my bed. I hope you know that I consider myself your friend and that no matter what version of you appears, I’ll stay. Love you, JD

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