• Bipolar Obsession

    by  • December 20, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, Confession • 1 Comment

    The more I think about it the more I realize how central you are to the value I place in my life. Making a list of my wants, you are featured in at least half of them. I know you will never actually read this letter because I hate getting sentimental for fear of changing the nature of my relationships, but at the top of that list is that I want to tell you that I love you. Not in a romantic way like J. suggested when she was drunk, but in the purest, most selfless way that perhaps only someone with a mental illness can achieve. I am religious and I know you are not, but I pray that you will be healed because I hate seeing you suffer. I would 100% take a hundred shots so that you would not have to get any and I’d way rather be in pain than see you in pain. If something ever happens to you such that you end up in a condition that others would abandon you, I never would. I would happily push you around in a wheelchair, come visit you in a hospital (even if you were unconscious and even though I am afraid of hospitals), or drive a thousand miles to sit with you while you cry. You are actually the only person who I have ever let into my life so much. You know more about me than my own family. Yes, there are things I don’t tell you, can’t tell you. But really, you are not missing any aspect of the big picture much as everyone else I know is. I just can’t tell you certain things because I don’t want to worry you and I know that without those stories you don’t believe me capable of certain things and thus don’t have reason for concern.
    It may seem ridiculous to someone who is good at social interaction, but it was a big step in me telling you that I’d miss you over break. I rarely compliment people or tell them that they mean something to me because I don’t want to seem needy or emotional. When you shrugged it off and left I felt like crying because I thought that you missed my cue. The fact that you came back alone and hugged me meant so much to me. It gave me that electric feel of happiness. Maybe I will never get the chance to tell you I love you, but I hope that that moment will be suspended in your memory as much so as it is in mine and when you think about it you will understand that maybe I can’t say it but I love you with all my heart. As you were leaving you told me to keep taking my meds, and your family seemed shocked and wondering whether I was offended, but you know the struggles I have so it is not weird at all to me that you would say that. In fact, your saying that ensures that I will take them. I would stop taking my medication if I had nothing in my life that I needed to protect from the wild destructive ups and downs that is bipolar disorder. You saying that told me that you care about my well-being, and your caring makes me need to protect you by remaining as stable as I can.
    I hope with all my heart that you have a great Christmas and you don’t worry about me at all, though I will be worrying about you this whole time. There are many things that I love about the heightened emotions I sometimes experience, but the empathy I feel for you is to the point that sometimes I wonder who is more affected by your pain you or me, and sometimes I question whether it is a blessing or a curse. That last sentence probably would make you mad if you actually read this because I always act like a cold person, so you’d think it stupid for me to suggest my feeling your pain more acutely than yourself. But let me tell you, I quite literally cry in my places about you, and I personally believe that emotional pain can be worse than physical. If you think about it, you making risky choices triggers me probably because of how keen about protecting you my brain makes me. It scares me to think that there is a pretty good chance I would take a bullet for you given that you are quite literally the only thing in my life that does not adopt a dull greyness when I’m in the lowest of lows. At a certain point I realize it becomes creepy how committed I become to a person. This is why I have grown to believe that this is an experience that only I, and perhaps others who have mood disorders, can grasp. I want to be with you at all times, but if I could be assured that it would keep you happy, I would stay a hundred miles away from you for the rest of my life.
    I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have met a friend like you, and to have coincidentally have been placed in a room with you. You not only provide me with a certain level of stability, but you also bring out the best in me. Too often I pick friends who keep me in my comfort zone of quiet, safe, studiousness. You have the depth and compassion that I need in a friend but you are so much more of a person than all my other friends have been. You remind me a lot of my friend M., except you are probably even better in that you don’t have the same volatile nature which makes her and I a risky combination. I still think about how you stood by my side and continue to stand by my side through the struggles and the confusion of mental illness. I’m not going to lie, I probably would have shut myself away if it had not been for you, for fear of looking weak and embarrassing myself. It was probably harder on you, but I’m so glad I didn’t because with my history, preventing me from becoming completely isolated is the key to keeping me safe.
    The story I refused to tell you the day after I ran away when we were laying on the hill by the golf course, the way that my old friend J. saved my life, I couldn’t tell you it because as we spoke you were saving my life in the very same way that he did. Not saying that at that moment I was considering suicide, but certainly I was low enough that it was a possibility. The day before, I had run away and I stood by some railroad tracks, crying, and considered leaving my bike in some bushes and walking down the tracks until a train came and hit me. But I didn’t. Instead I took out my phone and I snapchatted you. Because you meant too much to me for me to die right then and there. You have the seemingly magic power to always bring me even the smallest sliver of happiness, but even more powerful than that is the afore mentioned commitment to you that I feel. I could never harm myself because I know that you care about me and I would never want you to experience the emotional fallout that I experienced after my brother was hospitalized for his suicide attempt.
    I express these things to you in this letter because I know it is private. Though your reading this letter would certainly help you comprehend my love, I cannot let you read this. My biggest fear is that reading this would creep you out or make you uncomfortable talking to me in the playful and forward way that you do. I would never expect you to return most of these sentiments. I would only hope that at the end of the day you will still consider me your friend and will still say that you love me. And I hope that someday I get the chance to tell you I love you too.

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    One Response to Bipolar Obsession

    1. Sunny
      December 21, 2016 at 7:28 pm

      Hate to tell ya but this whole letter screams psycho stalker creepy poaaesive person.




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