I Am Sad, Because I Am Happy.

I’m in the backseat of my car, sad. Sad because I am happy. Because I am looking out of a rolled up window at everything I cannot reach. Because the clouds are tons of little blobs, each overlapping each other, something I’ve never seen before. Because the trees outside –even the completely leafless- are simply astonishing. Because every car we pass is traveling to their own destination, on their own journey, each creating their own story. Because one day (when I’m free), I’ll be in the front seat with the window down and an arm outside, feeling the real, non-air conditioned air. One day, I’ll be traveling to my own destination, on my own journey. I won’t drive 90 miles per hour because I’m in the middle of nowhere. And instead of blaring my music on the stereo, I’ll just put on headphones-- you know, the big, pillow-ear-ear-**** kind of headphones. That way I can block out the sound of reckless winds and harsh traffic. That way I can be completely alone.
Not lonely. Just alone.
Maybe I’ll even make an unnecessary stop at a picnic area. I’ll stay in the next town I come across that night and explore it for a day. Sleep at an inexpensive hotel and watch the sun go down from the hood of my car, while eating only my favorite dark chocolate mints. When I get up the next morning I’ll buy a twenty ounce of Dasani and expect to take a jog somewhere fantastic. Instead I’ll end up running to the nearest stop sign and back. If it gets cooler outside, I might just try a coffee with less creamer than I’m used to. Maybe with no creamer at all. Or if it’s hot, I’ll take my coffee iced. I’ll be patient with the world and compliment every silent person who stands out. Maybe I’ll find a good enough excuse to give away some cash. And if I can’t, there will always be someone/something to donate to. And if I happen to fall for an androgynous girl within the first few seconds upon seeing her, I might just try out a pick-up line. Not because I like girls, but because I believe androgynous girls are the most intriguing kind. Then somewhere, somehow, I’ll come across a cranky cashier. I’ll buy nothing but chocolate, then go through their register. After my purchase I’ll give it all to him or her, only to be repaid with a monotonous, “I’m diabetic.” And instead of getting upset, instead of telling them how they should’ve said that they were a diabetic versus being diabetic, I’ll just write about it all, with too many commas, and share it to a select few.
I am sad because I am happy.
Because one thing leads to another, and in a matter of 5 minutes I’ve pictured some of the most brilliant ideas... Simple things people do every day and take for granted. Simple things people could do every day, but would never think it’d make a difference. Because I’ve spent days of my life dreaming and waiting to one day accomplish something that means nothing to anyone else. Because though everything is beautiful, it has no point. No motive. No meaning. No reason. No purpose. Because although the clouds are amazing and the trees are green, though the future looks flawless without a plan… I begin these senseless endeavors, expecting them to give my life meaning. Because although everything can be so simple and perfect, I’m taught that it’s completely impractical. Irrational, illogical, unreasonable –like me. Why is life this way? Where are all my fellow idealists who are senseless enough to support me? Where are the teachers and parents telling me I can be anything I want to be? Where are the pastors preaching that with God anything is possible? Where is everybody? Or… where am I?
I am sad because I know this happiness is false, and within a few hours I’ll have given up on myself. Within the next few days or weeks, I’ll be reminded that I’m not special, that this isn’t real. I am not a somebody, I am not a nobody. I’m not myself without medication, not myself with it. I have lost who I am and have nothing left to do but imagine. Everything is fake. Everything’s pretend. Everything is okay, but NOTHING is right. Am I, or am I not alive? I feel things, right? I am sad, because I get so happy. My ups are high and my downs are low. My conscious is missing, my conscious is overwhelming. Where and who am I doing what? I am sad, because soon I’ll again be happy.
decembersnow decembersnow
18-21, F
2 Responses Jan 19, 2013

I would simply like to say that I agree and appreciate you. {Of course, I can never do anything simply, though...}
It seems as though you might be a Highly Sensitive Person (in addition to the bipolar depression). I am both as well. Then there's this other beast, the mind fog, the Great and Terrible Nothing, that consumes my thoughts, raping my mind and taking from me the grammar and writing skills I thought I once had. It leaves me stumbling, fumbling for words, meanings, thoughts. I'm there now.
My pathetic magic betrays me.
{Major <3 to anyone who gets both of those references.}
I am up, down, and all around, all at once. Smiles don't come easy anymore, and they always were so damn elusive.

&lt;3 is apparently what the EP thinks of hearts. I guess they're not genuine enough.

I have bipolar depression. There is no day or night just one continuous moment. I get tired. I lose track off time and the importance of things...what to do next. Everything has to be written down then I check the list compulsively. I've managed to separate time for myself from the monotony of what I have to do next but it's scary because I lose track off time. It makes me anxious when that happens. I can go the whole day or days and since it's one continuous event there are no distinguishing factors of what should occur next.

The times I allow mself I see what you see. I will go around and be mystified at what everyone is doing. Look at the sun on the leaves, smell the air, feel the breeze. It's hard for me not to notice everything then nothing at all. I get distracted by simple things and follow an unknown course then wonder what I'm doing and how did I get here? I spent hours and days on thoughts. Some recurring others prompted by something I read or something I saw or heard. I follow the thoughts until I'm someplace entirely different and now I'm lost gain. Scared because live has no boundries in my head. It's wonderful to get lost in thought and get bewildered by life going on around me but at some point I realize I'm not really a part of it. I'm just the observer. Then reality hits and I see myself as someone with a constant day dream life I never wake up from. Yet I like to take my time and absorb everything around me.

I'm managing my fear of this better. I have daily goals of things to get done etc. but where I want to be is drifting around in wonderment of everything around me. People fascinate me. How can they be so regimented. How can they be happy with the boring existance they appear to have. Sometimes I'll run into someone who "gets" me and that can be alot of fun until they realize I never stop. Then there goes that friendship.