MENTALLY ILL



I have been called many things in my life.  Retard, stupid, lazy, autistic, and crazy among them.  For whatever reason, I thought I would address some of this stuff.



First of all, I don't even like saying "mentally ill"  that implies that I'm contagiously sick, or someone that needs to be avoided.  I'm not.  I have my days where I just want to be left alone, that's true, but so does everyone!  Personally, I prefer the term "asymetrical thinker".

So...let's address some of these....stigmas attached to "mentally ill".



I am not stupid.  In fact, I daresay I am far smarter than people give me credit for (and, in some cases, smarter than some people believe themselves to be).  The thing is...I just--find a lot of the things that many so-called smart people learn, or, the things that people think I should or could learn--I just find them incredibly boring.  Would YOU put all your effort into studying a subject that you had no interest in?  It is my sincere belief that if you cannot enjoy what you do in some form or another, than you won't be good at doing it.  If something holds no appeal for me than I see no point in studying said topic.



Now--lazy.  This is one that really bugs me.  People think because I'm fat, and I don't like doing things, this makes me lazy.  While I'm sure my writing (er--typin) this, won't change anyone's mind who's already formed an opinion of me, but here goes.  If I make a mess, and my mind is distracted with other stuff, and I forget to clean it up, then yes, by all means, someone has the right to (POLITELY) come to me and remind me that I need to clean it up.  That I don't mind.  But if other prople are just throwing crap on the ground or forgetting to pick up after themselves, then I see no reason why I should be called upon to clean up after them.  And so I wont.



Another thing is--sometimes, in my head, I just can't see the point in things.  It may sound like nothing to most people, but some days, just finding the will to get out of bed is a challenge.  And a great accomplishment for me.  No one ever said life was easy.  But for some of us, it is much harder.  Some days, just waking up and--and existing is an achievement in and of itself.  And because of that, if I'm spending the day alone, and my room is disorganized and trashed--then I see no point in straightening it up.  same with the bathroom.  I didn't say it was RIGHT, I just said that's how I feel.



Autistic.  Hm.  I don't know about this one.  I DO NOT like change.  We just had a change at the program I go to.  My "class".  One of the staff left temporarily to fill in at another program and I did not take it well.  In fact I was (and still am) downright pissed about that.  Same thing happened where I used to work.  We went through a myriad of bosses in my departmet.  Like 6 or something in the span of 9 months, each one with a different way of doing things; a different style to learn.  Add, personal BS on top of it, and it fucked me up.  No wonder i lost my job.  The only one I was ever really any good at.  Which, considering what I did for a living is kinna sad when you think about it....so if that means I'm autistic then...yea, whatever.



I have been told I am a "bring-down".  Well, I can't argue this fact.  The thing is, I am just perpetually--sad.  I don't know why.  And the thing is-- people seem to think I LIKE feeling that way.  I can assure you, I DO NOT.  Why would anyone wanna feel like this?  Constantly debating if life is worth living?  Whether my fear of life will overcome my fear of death and i will finally just--end it.  I don't wanna feel like this!  For God's sake!  I've got three kids!  Three beautiful children that I want to watch grow up and have children of their own!  And yet, every day I wake up--I'm nauseated.  Wondering what the point of another day is?  And to look at it logically, my life is hardly what most would classify as bad.  Not in the least!  I have a roof over my head, food in my (ample) belly and a family and friends who love me, in spite of the fact that I can be a royal pain in the ass.  And still, every night, I'm fighting back tears, fighting the urge to do something stupid that may result in my end.  I am sickened by my cowardice--afraid to die, and just as afraid to live. And the thing that really upsets me-- at times in my life I am told to "get over it".  Like it's so easy.  I think that's what hurts the most.  I know--I KNOW-- there are are people who have it WAY worse that I do.  Logically, I know this.  But please, don't minimize my pain by making it seem like it can be overcome simply by willing it so.  Trust me, if that were the case, I'd never have written this.  There are people who--if they were to spend 1 day in my shoes-- they would be dead before it was over.  That's how scary this is for me.  To be so....sad, and angry and scared--for no reason.



Shrugs.  I'm not really even sure why I am writing this.  Perhaps, with all the drama that's been going on I've been...introspective.  Introspective?  Izzat the word?  I guess--I guess for posterity's sake or--whatever. It does, however speak to the friends and family that have stuck by me through all this.  So thanks everyone for--ya know bein there for me and stickin with me through everything.  It means a lot, even if I don't say it that often.  I love you all.



-Z