I’ve made references to being on the “dark side of the moon” in the past. It comes full circle. For me it almost always does. It is a place only the mentally infirm will know. I know many do not view bipolar as “insanity” in the traditional sense. Talking to ourselves, being paranoid or distrustful. Making delusion assertions or hysteria. No, for the most part we bipolar types fly under the radar. We are primarily acceptable. Until we aren’t. In those moments when we are not it isn’t evident that we are suffering from an illness. I’ve said things of this nature in the past but I will reiterate: our mood disorder and the behaviours that accompany it are attributed by onlookers as personality traits. Even when they are aware of your disorder. Sometimes they become hostile especially because of it. Like, don’t you know any better? As though mid-episode you can snap out of it merely by focusing on the fact that it is happening…
Human beings are small. Despite having the largest brains and being the most intelligent species we are on average super-stupid. My estimated IQ is half again what is considered average. This is no boast, it is actually a curse. Things that are mundane to me are super challenging or do not even register for the average person. Even in attempting to explain it to them in very carefully chosen, simplified language I still think that most of the time I am misunderstood. People who believe that in marching for equality that property damage is in some way acceptable or will not in any way hinder or override their cause… Protesting in general. Pointless. A show of force is only good for one thing. War. If you are not prepared to fight, the side that is will win. People still do not get this. I digress.
Between ignorance, emotions and plain stupidity I find myself in a very unique place. A kind of loneliness that few will ever comprehend. For unless you have a mood disorder or have dealt with one long enough to truly understand it, are of above average intelligence and will not take anything I say as an immediate affront, you and I will probably not get along. I know, it seems like I pity myself. There are times where I do. There are times where I miss being the center of attention. I used to have hypomanic episodes that placed me in party mode and made me indispensable. Now there is a part of me that no longer really tries because I recognize the value in my separation from everyone else. Social media is still an issue…
Back to the Dark Side of the Moon. This is the place that I reside. Like many of my ilk. I knew the song “Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd off of the album “Dark Side of the Moon” since before I could talk. Only recently did it enter my thoughts due to my current mind state. I went over the lyrics as I recalled them. Sure enough it struck me… the song was about Syd Barrett. It has themes of loss of sanity, well clearly the word “lunatic” is used frequently. Moreover however is the lyric: “I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon” which is Roger Waters essentially admitting that he feels that sooner or later he is bound to join Barrett in his psychological state.
There we are, standing off the path, on the grass. When everyone else is happily strolling along on the path as intended. You find yourself playing music, yet the people in the band are all playing a different song than you are. You are the odd one out, you don’t know the melody and no matter how you try to play along your song isn’t the same. Like Syd Barrett you stand on stage with a band you’ve been playing with for years and mid song you find yourself launching into a completely different one. Eventually you simply wander away. You are no longer a member of any band. You fade away and you find yourself alone. On the dark side of the moon, as nobody hears from you in years. Moreover, nobody is really looking for you all that hard. You do not get invitations. Christmas cards are a laughable concept.
So you dig a well. You sit at the bottom. You die inside. The few voices that break through into this void you have created tell you not to give up. You have no clue why. If there was any need of you the phone would ring. Isn’t it simply easier in the long run? Just to fill the well with water? Or concrete?
February is the worst thing that can possibly happen to me.