I feel like everyone gets a kick out of getting a rise out of me. It began in childhood and adolescence, continued through college, and has always been a part of my life. It’s definitely worse than ever right now. When I realized that the drugs I grew up taking, made me feel like I was stuck in a permanent bad trip, I felt trapped and blamed myself. I wished that I knew beforehand that my family had some mental health issues and I possibly had a genetic disposition towards mental illness. The drugs ultimately pushed me over the edge. I have never unstuck myself either. Medication obviously doesn’t work.
The man who stalked me in college, continues to stalk me. There is no foreseeably end game either. I will be 50 years old in January and he still just drives past me. Should I continue to be flattered? He never forgot me! He still has feelings for me! Things were going so well without him too! I had moved on. I got married and I had my kids, like I wanted. I had a comfortable, full life. I think my mental health took a huge downturn, after I finished having my children. I wanted children. I enjoy and love my children. I don’t regret having children. I couldn’t see doing anything differently. Mr. Wonderful from college, I believe, didn’t want kids, He wasn’t ready to settle down and he would never move to Los Angeles, my hometown, with me. After college, he took time off. He enjoyed himself and sowed his wild oats. He continued to sow his wild oats I think, when he began going to medical school and eventually became a doctor. I knew, in college, that he would not make it out of medical school single. He was too cute! It didn’t help that he met some cute sorority girl and when she set her sights on him, it was all over. She is probably plenty extroverted and outgoing. There was no need to muster the strength or courage to talk to her. She probably just came up to him and started talking. They married the year I gave birth to Peter, my son, in 2010. I was enjoying my children in 2010. I had loved being pregnant, even though my husband never pampered me at all, like some women’s husbands do. Being pregnant felt wonderful and exciting. Being pregnant gave me something wonderful to look forward to. I looked forward to bringing each of my three sweet souls into the world. It was a sweet time. I was happy and fulfilled. I think everything would have remained good, as it was, if I didn’t think that I kept seeing that guy from college, driving past me all the time. What could he be doing here? I thought he was from Northern California somewhere? I believed that I may have had an actual option and could leave my husband, if things went downhill. This perceived college aquaintance presence became a total distraction and a temptation for me. My husband grew cranky, from long days at work, commuting, and the stress of children. You can’t be the baby, when you have a baby, is a joke I heard. Men definitely hate the disappearance of all their free time and the reduction of spontaneity and opportunities for sex. The fact that sex was never something that I was interested in with my husband or looked forward to is telling. Did I even want the husband or just the kids? Should I leave my husband, for a man who never asked me out in college, never kept in touch, and certainly hesitated, and certainly doubted that he wanted marriage and children with me. He may have heard through the grapevine that my mental illness was a severe one. He probably didn’t even want kids at all. The timing made a future for us impossible.
When I became convinced it was really him. I was flattered and acknowledged that I was still very attracted to Trey. I became obsessed with him and waited for him to rescue me from my imperfect life. He’s no Prince Charming, though really. He’s more like Duckie from Pretty In Pink. Is a man a sweet, potential romantic interest, if he keeps his feelings a secret, never cuts to the chase, and asks her out? That’s not sweet. That’s just a stalker! That movie weirdly romanticized stalking. I am a little messed up from it too.
Anyway, I am so tormented by my hallucinations and my delusion, that he is down here. I assume that he intends to carry me off into the sunset, but not quite sure.
I feel like complete strangers are judging me now. Are people reading my blog? Am I home wrecker? Is that how others perceive me? I never even touched the guy! Do people think that this is my fault? Why do I think that I see celebrities driving past me all the time? I see celebrities everywhere around Carlsbad! This can’t be real! Why is everyone making fun of my double chin?
I feel like the fat shaming has been bubbling up and now that Trump had been elected, we will be seeing fat shaming in epic proportions, along with every other form of discrimination and physical attribute that is demonized. Scary. Today I was driving my son home from school and we were near Home Depot. Some blue collar looking guy at a stop light, drove past me, and turned to go into the Home Depot parking lot. He was so cruelly motioning to his double chin. I have been getting so much of that from so many random hateful haters, but this guy did too much. He looked super mean. He looked like some asshole MAGA guy. I looked back at the hateful expression on his face and that did me in. I was thinking that this guy is just pissed because he’s broke! He looks like some MAGA asshole, who is attracted to women, yet hates women at the same time! He can’t deal with my physical imperfections. Us women really need to step it up now! So let’s create a controlling, bullshit law for that too. It’s like, what is this world coming to? Like just, push me into an oven for being fat and having a double chin, why don’t you? MAGA is the party of Nazi’s. Looks like a lot of us will be pushed in together, I guess!! We would be sainted and martyrs too, at least! On the other hand, the MAGA afterlife burn will be long and drawn out.
After I got home, I started guilt tripping myself over what happened with the mean guy driving by. I thought, you know he’s probably a vet or something and Monday is Veterans Day. I should just chill. He may be a police man who is helping to look into my situation too. He’s definitely not the first person to try and give me a hard dirty look and make fun of me, at the same time. I never wanted people to be jealous of me. It’s one of the hardest things for me. It’s triggering. I shouldn’t put that out there, because if I tell all of my haters, they will do just that to bug me. People love to get a rise out of me. I feel attacked by many people, at the same time, right now. Like, WTH is going on here?
A lot of people in my circle aren’t even going to fake any compassion or sympathy for me either. You know my situation. Do you think this is all my fault? I brought this on myself? Burn me at the stake, why don’t you? Mental illness, shmillness! No one thinks schizoaffective disorder makes my life harder, in any way? My life is just a piece of cake? What part of my life, amuses you the most? The hallucinations? The delusions? The paranoia? The anxiety spikes? The hypersensitivity? The overthinking? The conclusion that I am being hexed? The possibility that I really am being hexed? I would take performative empathy, at this point. But sympathy is hard for people around me to even fake right now.
I was imagining what Syd went through, after he was tricked and kicked out of Pink Floyd. Roger tried to reach out to Syd a few times to apologize apparently, but he never reached him. People really enjoyed the music, but didn’t seem to realize or care just how fucked up what happened to Syd was. He probably disconnected his phone and tv. He didn’t want to hear about Pink Floyd or listen to their music, I am sure. He didn’t want to talk about or answer questions about them with random people. How humiliating must that have been? I would have become a hermit too. I imagine all the annoying and ignorant questions he must have been asked when he was out in public, like “Hey, aren’t you Syd Barrett? Weren’t you in Pink Floyd? What happened there? That must have sucked! To be kicked out of the band and watch then achieve huge worldwide success? That must drive you up the wall! So, how’s your mental illness doing?
Why did Pink Floyd make all of their song subject matter about Syds mental illness? They were imagining and romanticizing schizophrenia, like it’s so cool. Who are they kidding anyway. Syd, I am sure, hated them. He is turning over in his grave every time Roger mentions him. If Syd could say anything from the after life to Pink Floyd it would be, “Oh you wrote a few songs about me? That’s so flattering? How can I ever repay you?” He’s haunting them now, for sure! Why were they never hexed? When you are the subject and inspiration, for a bands whole song catalog, can you sue for royalties?
Sorry for the long ramble.
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