Reconciling Saints

At a show this past Saturday there was this guy who kept walking by me and looking back at me when he'd pass by... you know?? Like, maybe checking me out. I ignored him.

At one point he sorter bumped into me and I my first thought was that it was likely accidental, and he turned around as if to say sorry (in my mind), so I smiled as if to say, "no harm no foul." Instead, though, he just kind of stared.

Then, with the boyo standing next to me, the second time he passed by, he put his cold glass or a beer can on my shoulder. I turned around, expecting it to be someone I knew, but it was that creepy guy again! So I wiped off the condensation from my shoulder, and made a face, but he'd already walked away. I had to wonder if he was trying to be cheeky, or if it was a rude way to get someone to move. However, when I looked around, I noticed that there was a lot of space around me. This time Stephen looked at me and asked what had happened. I told him and he looked to see where the guy had gone, but we couldn't see him. He mentioned something later on about how he had considered going after the guy for that, and I was a little happy he didn't. He was likely weighing his chances on whether or not it was worth it, and if it's even worth getting kicked out for.

So the third and final time, Stephen had run to the bathroom and our friend Neely had scooted up to the front, and Anya, Neely's friend was standing to one side of me. This guy comes up behind me, grabs the fabric on my shirt, and lifts it to my shoulders. Then he says something akin to, "how about some modesty." This is about the time when I freeze slightly from the shock of someone I don't know doing this. Until I heard that unfamiliar voice, I had just assumed it was Anya or Stephen. The guy just walked past me, looking back as he went like he's caught me doing something wrong... or... hell, I can't even explain the look.

Here's what I was wearing:

He wasn't smiling.. just had this weird look on his face. Again, I thought maybe he thought he was cheeky or flirting, but there was no smile and he was just weird! Looking at me in this way that seemed to be... angry? Blaming? Thankfully that was at the end of the last band's set, and I stuck by Stephen once he got back from the toilet, then we headed to the car. I didn't tell Stephen until we were driving away because I didn't want him to go after the guy and most likely get into trouble for fighting at a bar.

I'm still weirded out by this guy in retelling the story. I keep wondering if there was something that I should have done or said to let the guy know that he was acting completely inappropriate. 

Life is short, guys. Too short. I've had plenty of reminders of this in the past... few months? I mean, I always do, but...

There is not going to be any time later that's better to do x, y, or z. There's only now.

This might not necessarily be true, and yet it kind of is. What's so different from then... now? What will you learn? If anything, perhaps you should ask yourself, what won't you learn.

You won't until you do, so do it.

I'm writing a book. NOW. Right now. I keep thinking that this book idea I have is something I'll write later when I have a better idea for it, a clearer picture of it, have become a better writer. It's not gonna happen if I keep waiting, and really, what am I waiting for???? This is what I want to do, this is part of my passion. So I want to do what it is that I want to do, now. It seems to me the only time I really have is the present; everything else is merely borrowed, gambling on a future investment.

I've recently learned that I'm quite passionate about talking about mental health issues... specifically about bipolar disorder because that's what I know. It was devastating to me when I was diagnosed, and now I find that it's not so bad. Why is it that they make it sound so horrid, like all of a sudden you're one of the walking dead? Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!!!

Yes, there are meds. Yes, there are therapists, psychiatrists, and doctors. Yes, you have to relearn how to do certain things.

BUT! But you get to stop being totally out of control all the time, and you get to take a break from what you're used to that has gotten out of hand and is maybe no fun anymore. You get to learn new skills for life, and listen to yourself in a different way. This way, maybe after a while you don't need all the therapists, psychiatrists, and doctors, maybe you won't need all the meds. With these new skills - by learning your own tells, noises, and signs - you can start doing more on your own so that you're more like the you that you were used to, but smarter... and with mad skills, yo!

Bipolar really isn't so bad, and one can learn to live with it without ALL OF THE MEDS! and ALL OF THE DOCTORS, SHRINKS, AND THANGS! 

That is what I wish I knew in high school, and it's something that I wish I had found a book on at that age. I found so much understanding through my books, but I didn't find this. Don't worry, though, it's nothing that I knew to look for or even  knew I was missing. Still, I want to write the book I wish I had in high school, that book that opens my eyes and makes me feel that someone out there gets it, someone out there understands.

I want to let people know that I get it. Maybe it'll be one of the nieces or nephews, who knows! I want them to know that I get it, and I'm here to help them figure out the why and how of it, if only by leading by example.

So there's no time like right now! For me, because who knows! For them... the kids out there that I understand... because... well, also, who knows?! I'd like to give them a little more time if I can.

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, in case you don't know it already. Sometimes... sometimes things happen and you don't know it... or didn't know it at the time. I mean BIG things, game changing things... life lessons.

Things are always so much harder in the movies or TV. Wait... that's not true, exactly. The bad things are SOOO HARD to get through, and the accomplishments are as easy as saying you're going to make that (whatever your that is) happen.
...
OK, well that last bit I kind of agree with... but it's still never quite as easy.

Sometimes I forget that I'm going through something tough because my perception of just how difficult it is is skewed by Hollywood. That's actually kind of handy, really. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism; I'm not quite sure.

When I was 9, there was a rash of "special episodes" (as they called them) dealing with child sexual abuse/molestation on most prime time TV shows, with a few after school specials and a movie-of-the-week thrown in for good measure. The kids in these things were always pretty traumatized, sometimes shutting down completely without any medical reason as to why. It would be horrible if this happened to you, it would be a living nightmare... or at least that's how I felt it was portrayed. Those poor kids! How terrible for them!

One day, while watching an after school special that my mom had made us watch with her for some odd reason, it dawned on me. Could it be? I mean... I remembered playing hide-and-seek in my mom's best friend's house... and her eldest son getting stuck in the closet with me (I've always assumed he didn't know that I was in there)... and then his own little version of hide-and-seek. I remember not liking it. I remember telling his sister who made sure that she would keep me preoccupied and locked in her room when our parents went out for the rest of our stay. I remember going with her to tell her mom, who said she'd speak to him. Despite the precautions, I would still end up alone in a room with him from time to time... and I always tried my best to get away.

I couldn't reconcile what I saw on TV with what had happened to me. I mean... sure I didn't like what happened, and it was weird, yet vaguely similar to what was portrayed on the show. However, I wasn't traumatized, didn't have behavioral issues, nor did I shut down. Also, whatever really happened in the show's scenario when the camera pulled away, the door closed/lights went out, or they cut to a commercial break, couldn't have been what I went through because that was likely 10 times worse! That's how I thought about it, anyway. So... how was this the same?

There you have it, though. I put the pieces together, and, even if the numbers seemed off, the answer was correct. It wasn't easy to handle, but it was easier to get through than what I had seen via Hollywood.

This is kind of like my situation with an alcoholic boyfriend.

If I gave you his Greatest Hits or told you about the worst periods of time, you'd likely wonder how I live with that. However, since his accident, it's not really like that. In fact, most days he doesn't drink, and the days when he does have been minimal. A few times, there's been a small, heated argument that I could squash by refusing to let it escalate and remembering that it's not really him at that moment.

I suppose because of this - because of the lack of Hollywood production - the fact that I have to go to Al Anon doesn't seem real. What I tell you doesn't seem real. So that's why I feel I have to do it. I can't forget that this is a real situation and I need to deal with it and work through it, like I had to deal with and work through what happened with my mom's best friend's son.

This is really happening, no matter how mild it seems in comparison to the Hollywood version, no matter how quiet it is behind the scenes.