I should've met you years ago. We were in the same class, or would've been if I hadn't dropped it. There were only 25 people there and we were put in groups all the time. We could've commiserated over the fact that the prereqs changed without changing the content of the class. I know neither of us were really prepared for that.

I got a 40 on the first exam, but it was physics, so that was apparently normal. Either way, that freaked me out and I just decided to focus on other things. So I didn't meet you then.

A few years later, we were in the same computer science course. I took it on a whim, but at least that one was one of those 250-student monstrosities. I understood not meeting you then.

More confusing was the first time I actually met you. We were both officers in a very small academic "fraternity". You got so drunk right before the meeting that I had a hard time not laughing when you tried to act like you weren't. We barely spoke for the rest of year.

It wasn't until we were tutoring German together the year after that I got to know you. You weren't at all like what I thought. Maybe because you were so quiet before, but I never knew how deep still waters ran. It didn't hurt that I was usually buzzed and totally willing to tell you all my deep, dark secrets.

I had a crush- a huge one that took up all my time and energy. I thought it was the same for you. Sometimes when we talked I felt like you were the only other person in the universe and definitely the only one who would understand.

I wasn't subtle. I didn't think so anyway, but you let it go on too long. I was too far gone when you finally told me you had a girlfriend.

I couldn't believe after all those late nights, and so much beer, you'd never mentioned it before. I hated myself for thinking that I ever had a chance with you. I hated you for never admitting that I didn't. I found out later that you met her while studying abroad two years before. That was two years after we should've met.

I still think about you. You were really the only person who's ever made me feel anything at all. I message you occassionally: happy birthdays or big events. I'm waiting on the wedding invitation. I guess we just had bad timing.

I’ve been thinking about you lately

As yet another guy decides I’m not his baby.

It reminds me of the times

That you were there to dry my eyes,

When I couldn’t admit I wanted you to save me.

But if you lived alone,

How would those nights have gone?

If you spoke the truth,

Would I have gone to you?

If you kissed me that night

We almost let ourselves touch that line...

But all this idle speculation’s just one-sided.

And every chance you never took-

The ones where I saw that look-

The blame is not just yours, it’s mine.

I don’t know why I didn’t say

That I always knew you felt that way,

Or how I convinced myself

That I didn’t want anything else

But a friend who I thought would always stay.

If you lived alone,

How would those nights have gone?

If you spoke the truth,

Would I have gone to you?

If you kissed me that night

We almost let ourselves touch that line...

But all this idle speculation’s just one-sided.

And every chance you never took-

The ones where I saw that look-

The blame is not just yours, it’s mine.

When I think about you it makes me sad

’Cause I know it didn’t have to end like that.

If I’d known you wouldn’t wait forever

Or trusted we could stay together,

I wouldn’t be here feeling so bad,

Missing everything we should have had.

If you lived alone,

How would those nights have gone?

If you spoke the truth,

Would I have gone to you?

If you kissed me that night

We almost let ourselves touch that line...

I wish I could go back in time.

Maybe then, I wouldn’t think I had to hide

How much I wanted to make you mine.

I wrote this because I think it's interesting to write about my bipolar disorder in different phases and since it's been almost 3 years since my diagnosis.

I'm crazy.

Unlike many of my mentally ill peers, I don't have much of a problem with that word. Perhaps it's because I am of the generation that uses it to simply mean more of something: crazy awesome, crazy awful, that's crazy. In that sense, it doesn't retain its typically negative connotation. In fact, it looks a little naked when I refer to myself like that. Like I should say that I'm crazy something rather than just crazy.

But I digress.

I wanted to write today about what it means to be crazy. I didn't really know until I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I had in my mind a vague idea of mental illness, but I had never known someone with any sort of mental illness (that I knew about). The most contact I had was with the homeless people that lived near my university campus, and I don't know for sure how many of them were mentally ill. To me, that's what mental illness looked like. I thought that if you were seriously mentally ill, your life was basically over. You weren't you anymore, just your illness.

That meant that I spent years downplaying and rationalizing my symptoms because I knew wholeheartedly that if I was actually mentally ill, I wouldn't be able to function. I spent years suicidally depressed because my mother didn't believe that teen depression actually existed. I couldn't even tell her I was suffering because she would've said that I was just seeking attention. I spent years becoming so manic that my body felt out of phase with my brain and I hallucinated ghosts or bugs or people tapping me on the shoulder. When you're nearly blind without glasses and you see things while you're in bed at night, it's really easy to say it's a trick of the light. Plus, I think all of us have experienced that feeling of something brushing your skin when there's nothing there. Tactile hallucinations are not exactly the same, but you can definitely write them off as that.

All this is to say that I didn't know that crazy comes in different forms. I was perfectly sane for some of the time. I thought that meant that I couldn't be crazy because crazy people are alway crazy. I didn't know that mental illness isn't a constant thing, at least not for everyone. It's definitely not constant when you're bipolar.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I had a problem with my meds recently and experienced mania for the first time in a while. I forgot what it was like. There was this insistent trembling at the base of my skull. I couldn't get comfortable anywhere because that jittering feeling forced me to move. When I finally focused on something, I did so single-mindedly, forgoing food, water, breaks. It's like not recognizing the person in your body, but you don't realize that until after.

After this period, I reread a lot of the things I wrote. They were awful: run-on sentences everywhere, an incredibly diminished vocabulary (that is only slowly returning), leaps of logic that are entirely illogical (or missing huge chunks of the in-between parts). What I actually wrote by hand took on that characteristic handwriting style of all of my manias, namely, an illegible scrawl. I'm always too focused on the rest of the thought to take a moment to write more than a scribble for each word. I can typically only read about 1 in 10 words written during these phases.

This makes me really angry. I was doing everything right and because of a drug interaction, I was left unprotected. But it also makes me so ridiculously thankful. I had to experience what it was like to be mostly off my medication. I remember really clearly right now just how crazy I was a few weeks ago. I remember not feeling in control of my mind. I remember not feeling in control of my body or my choices. Even when I was manic, it was like someone else was directing my thoughts, I just didn't care at the time.

As I sit here, I wonder if other people grew up thinking of mental illness as one thing. I'm always terrified to say that I'm bipolar when I'm speaking to people face-to-face. I'm terrified to see that awful shift in their expression that tells you they've just changed how they perceive you forever. You become your mental illness, if only in their eyes. I wonder if I would've reacted the same had I not experienced it myself.

I'm not my mental illness. I work every day to get to that place of clarity that is stability for me. It's been a hard road and the struggle is never-ending. That's the awful thing about being crazy: there's no cure. You just have to put in heaps of effort to get to the place everyone else is naturally. You have to pump yourself full of medication with unclear or decidedly awful side-effects and long-term problems. You have to fight the comfortable pathways in your brain to force new habits of eating, drinking, and sleeping that parodoxically are unnatural for you. I do this every day. I fight for sanity every day.

I'm not always successful, but I try.

I've been thinking a lot about how difficult life is for me. As a poorly-controlled bipolar, everything is just harder than it should be. Even getting up in the morning is sometimes an incredible feat. Going out is even harder. With all of the Covid-19 fears plagueing the rest of the world, I feel like everyone is suddenly getting pushed down to my level. Everyone I know is experiencing crippling anxiety and fear over the thought of venturing out for food. I get that even when there isn't an external factor causing it. Everyone I know is experiencing sleep disturbances and strange dreams when they can actually sleep. I totally get that too. Everyone I know is going through periods of increased activity which usually involves cleaning their entire apartment. That's me when I'm manic. It feels like my everyday state is similar to other peoples' natural disaster panic states. It's like I'm operating at this level of crisis constantly. Now, this isn't a perfect comparison. My symptoms are definitely more extreme than just this, but the way those around me are coping (or not) feels really similar to how I was when I was first diagnosed. In that period, when I had a hard time even believing that I was sick, I was just as lost and untethered as those I see struggling with captivity. All I can say to them is hang in there. This nightmare will end for you. Eventually.

This is a song that I wrote when I was just beginning to emerge from a particularly debilitating, months-long depression. For me, this was the first one that lasted this long and was this severe.

Today I looked outside my window

And let the light come streaming in.

I realized that I'd forgotten

How it felt upon my skin.

So I decided to take a walk

To pretend that I was really me.

Like I had never simply checked out,

And now I needed to rejoin society.

The wind was biting on my face

And I realized somehow the seasons had changed.

I didn't know how much time had passed

Or how to explain how it had gone both so slow and so fast.

I made my way back home

I felt so drained just from being in the world.

I picked up my guitar

And for the first time in a while a piece of me unfurled.

#lyrics

This is a song I wrote a few years ago.

I’m writing this

Because I’ve nothing left to give.

I’m such a mess.

You know you made me like this.

I’m giving up.

You’ve had so many chances,

But you threw them away.

I can’t hold back anymore!

This isn’t what I deserve,

And it’s too hard for me to say this to your face.

I still love you, I do.

That’s why I’m writing this letter to you.

Maybe I’m a coward;

I know that’s what you’ll say,

But every time you see this coming

You pretend to change.

You become the man who stole my heart all those years ago

Before you became bitter and mean

And got yourself addicted to the drink.

I can’t hold back anymore!

This isn’t what I deserve,

And it’s too hard for me to say this to your face.

I still love you, I do.

That’s what I’m writing this letter to you.

Don’t try to follow;

I really mean it this time.

It’s too late anyway;

You couldn’t if you tried.

I’m long gone now,

But you’ve still got a chance

To be the man I always dreamed.

(Please forgive the way I had to leave.)

It’s just my time.

Go live your life.

This is goodbye.

I haven't seen you in a while,

but our friends say you're doing fine.

I know that we were never more than just friends,

But I still think about you sometimes.

Do you remember the feel of my hand

That November when we saw our favorite band?

Or that night when we didn't stop to understand?

That's what I'll remember in the end.

You've always been the one that got away,

Though I don't expect you to feel the same.

But when I hear about your brand new life,

I can't help but think back to that day.

Do you remember the feel of my hand

That November when we saw our favorite band?

Or that night when we didn't stop to understand?

That's what I'll remember in the end.

Even as the years have blown right by

I still hear the words you whispered.

Every time that I close my eyes

I'm right there with you in an instant.

'Cause I remember the feel of your hand

That November when we saw our favorite band,

And that night when we didn't stop to understand.

That's what I'll remember in the end.

(If you read this before, I changed the bridge completely because I'm a little less bitter about it now.)

I saw a picture of you today.

You were smiling at someone out of frame,

And even though I couldn’t see her face

There’s no one else you look at that way.

She was always the one you’d run to.

Why her? I never knew.

When I was always there to help you make it through,

Why is she the one for you?

Well, I never got the chance to show you how life could be.

I never allowed myself to set my feelings free.

But as I sit here I see what’s right in front of me:

I’m not the one that you need.

Since we met I’ve tried everything.

I go out with other guys, but I don’t feel a thing.

Why do I feel like my heart is breaking

Even though I never got to hear it sing?

’Cause I never got the chance to show you how life could be.

I never allowed myself to set my feelings free.

But as I sit here I see what’s right in front of me:

I’m not the one that you need.

It's taken me so long to see

That we were never meant to be,

And every chance we ever missed

Would never give me the love I wished.

'Cause even though, I never got the chance to show you how life could be.

I never allowed myself to let my feelings free.

But as I sit here I see what’s right in front of me:

(Now we can finally agree)

That I’m not the one that you need.

#lyrics

It’s been a really long time

Since I’ve felt in control.

Since you came in my life,

And you made it your own.

Now all that I am

Is an extension of you.

I’m part of your plan

My soul can’t break through.

Well, I’m so sick and tired of you.

I can’t keep giving my all to you.

Again and again, I feel all of me cease to be,

But I’m ready to break free.

When I close my eyes,

I still see your face.

In the back of my mind

I feel so afraid.

But I know you only

Have the power I gave.

You cannot control me

Unless I give you that space.

I’m so sick and tired of you.

I can’t keep giving my all to you.

Again and again, I feel all of me cease to be,

But I’m ready to break free.

I’m not wasting anymore time.

You can’t convince me that you’ll make this right.

I can finally breathe easily

Without you judging me.

I’m so sick and tired of you.

I can’t keep giving my all to you.

Again and again, I feel all of me cease to be.

Now I’m ready to break free

I guess you heard that I’m leaving.

I meant to tell you before; I don’t want you believing

That this is because of what I said that night,

When I told you what I’d hid so deep inside.

Now and then I regret those words falling from my lips,

And I convince myself that’s the only thing I need to fix.

But I don’t need you the way I used to.

I had to learn so fast how to make do.

And yes, it hurts when I see you around.

I’m never prepared enough to make it seem like I’m doing better now,

And I still find myself reliving that moment when it all went down.

But trust me when I say this, ’cause it’s true:

I’m not leaving because of you.

These past few month made me rethink a few things,

Like why I stayed so long; there was nothing keeping me.

Now all I want is a chance to find myself.

This world’s a scary place but I don’t need your help.

And yes, it hurts when I see you around.

I’m never prepared enough to make it seem like I’m doing better now,

And I still find myself reliving that moment when it all went down.

But trust me when I say this, ’cause it’s true:

I’m not leaving because of you.

Every day, as I walk through our town

Fragments of memories always bring me down.

But that’s not the reason why I couldn’t stay.

I’m not the kind of girl who thinks that way.

And yes, it hurts when I see you around.

I’m never prepared enough to make it seem like I’m doing better now,

And I still find myself reliving that moment when it all went down.

But trust me when I say this, ’cause it’s true.

I really need this to be true.

I’m not leaving because of you.