The other side of positive..

I am pretty much bi polar.  It manifests itself in different ways, and because I am such an extreme personality, the hardest part is finding where I end, and the bi polar begins.  I can alternate through 5 emotions every 15 minutes for a whole day.  Its fucking exhausting, not just for me personally, but for the people around me.  I guess that's why I tend to drink so much, or hide in my room.  I get genuinely hateful sometimes.  Even if I am happy all day long, it can take one thing to just flip my switch and turn me hateful.  And I don't enjoy being mean, so I will just go and hide, and wait for it to go away.  But now the closest thing to escaping I have is hiding behind a curtain.  I knew this was the situation I was walking into, but sometimes it just drives me crazy.  

I mean, its almost hilarious, because I think the biggest qualm for me is just not having a door.  I didn't have a door until I was 17, and since then, I have always had a door.  The door is almost as symbolic as it is physical.  A way to close everything out, to trap what ever demon I am fighting with in.  Not having one is a loss of control, and as someone who has worked very, very hard to have control of my life, losing that small piece of control pushes a button sometimes. I'm not even going to downplay this by calling it "silly" or "trivial", because to a bi polar person, those are exactly the things that fuck with your head, the minute or seemingly insignificant.

 I guess its as close to jealousy as I allow myself to get.  Wait, I take that back, now that I have reviewed the actual definition, I am not jealous at all. I am bitter. Which is of no surprise, since I am a self professed bitter person.  I guess it just hurts my feelings to be bitter about the happiness of my best friends.  I feel like an extra in my own house.  I have arranged my space to be so beautiful and I like it, but the living room is two steps away and I can hear everything that goes on there.  And the roomies pretty much hang out there all the time.  Which is how it is supposed to be, if they were in their room all the time, I would probably complain about that shit. I need to get over the need to hide.  Even though half the time I do it for the benefit of others as much as for myself.  No one should have to see me or deal with me like this. 
 
 The worst part is that the people I live with, who love me, and do their god honest best to deal with the erratic creature that lives near the kitchen, probably don't even realize what sets me off, and I don't know how to explain it.  Eh, but since they both read this, I guess they know now.  They are happy, and they fucking deserve it.  I guess I just can't envision such simple happiness like that for myself and it makes me bitter.  We are a family, they have never treated me like anything else, even though I am a pain in the ass, but I feel like I am watching it all from outside an aquarium sometimes.  Never alone, yet lonely all the time.  And I don't want any of you to think this was a passive aggressive way of talking about it, I guess I just don't know how to deal with it myself, so how in the hell am I supposed to walk anyone else through it?

I feel like a fucking pussy sometimes because I know that sometimes I make people feel like they are on eggshells, because lord forbid somebody set me off.  This is true at work and in other situations, and its ridiculous, who the fuck do I think I am?? I don't know.  I have no idea.  

What I do know is, right now I should be high on life with all these new and fortunate opportunities that have been bestowed on me, a great job, money, living in New York with my best friend... and I still feel like I walk around with this rain cloud like Charlie Brown, or more appropriately, Charlie Bronson.  I think it was that cloud that I was running from, and I have run, literally, as far as the land would allow, and I am beginning to realize that this cloud is not above my head, it is in my head.  How do you destroy your enemy, when it is, in fact yourself?  I am closer to 30 than I am to 20 and if I don't figure it out, I will self destruct.  

Even now, I feel guilt about saying this, because I have spent so much time assuring you all that I am great and fantastic, and for all intents and purposes, I am.  I am safe, I am warm, I am fed, I have a nice apartment, good friends, nice clothes and a future.  And I am also realizing that the reason transitions are so easy for me, is because I am detached.  Nothing scares me, nothing shocks me, and nothing jars me.  I thought that made me brave, but it doesn't.  It makes me indifferent....  but I guess I will have to believe Bukowski when he says, "If you are losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose..."  And I hope that none of you worry too much about this, it wasn't my intent.  It's just the natural progression into the brutal honesty that I think you all expected from me in the first place.