We all go about our lives as though we are perfection incarnate. As though we have nothing wrong with us and nothing to hide. Meanwhile we have a closet full of skeletons that we would rather nobody see and kindly request that they ignore the little man behind the curtain. Even when things are tumultuous and our imperfections are glaringly obvious we continue this charade. We even dislike people who seem too perfect. I’m going to pause here to note that it is because of this little game that we are aware that anyone who seems too perfect has the most to hide. We know this. We know it in our gut because we have been playing for our whole lives that the people who seem effortlessly flawless are seriously troubled. Extra disturbed. The pillars of the community who actually have a glint in their smile and turn out to have a cache of child pornography. Yet, we always say the same thing: “He seemed so normal, so perfect! He had a wonderful life! Two point five kids and a doting wife! I knew something had to be wrong!”
This is why I respect people who are evidently damaged. People who have given up on the game. I don’t mean that they have given up on life, they just embrace themselves for what and who they really are. Like me. I always face the phrase: you can’t let your disorder define you. Okay, cool. If that’s true then you can’t let your gender and race define you. Not fair? Why not? Oh… It places you automatically in a political social sphere? Fucking strange that. Sure, I could hide mine, play the perfect game. Yet, you see I’m not a liar. So you can pretend to be perfect and act like nothing is wrong but that’s a little bit like ignoring your issues in the hopes that they will sort themselves out. Hot tip: they won’t. Usually they pile up. Best way to deal with something is to tackle it head on. I am always dealing with bipolar.
It’s amazing how people treat you when you don’t want to play the game. It makes them uncomfortable. They are so innured in it from having played it since birth that they are astounded. Shocked. I’ve had women hop into my roller-coaster cart for the ride and women fairly fly out. People become stand-offish. How dare you not follow the rules! Don’t you know that you are supposed to play at being perfect?! You might expose their imperfections! Which you invariably do. It can be a lonely road. When it isn’t though, it can be very rewarding or very dangerous. When you meet others who don’t play you can become great support for one another. Or adversely you can become a downward spiral of futility and ever growing morbid fascination.
The irony in all of this is that when you embrace those things about you that are less than admirable, you learn to overcome them. You compensate and grow. Making you an actually stronger and better person. You cannot fix a problem that you have not first identified and diagnosed. Pretending that you do not have problems is tantamount to not solving them. Therefore, admitting that you are not perfect is the quickest route to becoming so.
I’m actually rather thankful for my disorder. It comes with a fair amount of gifts.