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Reflection from March 19th, 2008 @ Age 26
RE: MENTAL-HEALTH *DOES* EXIST OVER THE RAINBOW -> I MADE IT THERE, I’M PIECING THE PROOF TOGETHER NOW.
You know what’s really funny? Well let me tell you. I can remember all my days of high school, all the time and energy I spent on trying to hide the fact that I had no social life. And it wasn’t that I couldn’t have a social life, I’m sure there were several people who would’ve been delighted to have gotten to know me better, to have spent more time getting to know me (I’d say you can just read so in my year books but I already threw them away in a manic fit of rage and pain). I didn’t have a social life because I chose not to have one. I didn’t have a social life because the pain I felt in the presence of others, especially in social situations, was by far greater than the pain I felt being alone. And everybody knows at one time or another in their life what it means to be lonely. Everybody knows that being alone just plain sucks. But I chose to be alone because the immense pain of being alone was far less ravaging upon me than the pain of maintaining a social existence.
And so, I remember dreading going into school on Mondays and Fridays because all the talk was just, what are you going to do over the weekend and what did you do last weekend. And I dreaded those moments, those questions because I spent them all alone, but I couldn’t say to other people that I spent them all alone. So I pretended…I don’t know what the hell I said to other people, I don’t know how the hell I pretended for all those years, but I did, I put on my false face and pretended everything was just okay. Now these were pretty dreadful years given the circumstances, but I tell you what, I remember every time Dave stopped in those hallways to say hi to me, and I remember every time Dave stopped by my locker just to say hello. And he did, he took the time, he braved my storm and walked into my life.
Anyways, all this history just made it all the more shocking to find out from some web page that Dave’s fourth year undergrad thesis was titled as follows: Needing More Than Modern Biomedicine: Different Perspectives on Disease and Social Isolation. Pretty funny, huh? I can’t help but wonder.
So I’m working on getting a copy of that thesis because I want to read the beautiful words that poured out from that beautiful mind. I’ve finally located a contact at UVA and emailed this professor today. Needless to say I’m feeling incredibly impatient at the moment. But what’s more is that today I found out where Dave was buried! That’s right! I called the church which I looked up on the internet because I remembered it was in Canton off of Tuscarawas Street. The church didn’t have the info but referred me to the funeral home, and the funeral home had the info! Then I called the cemetery and the told me exactly where he is buried, Lot 249, Burial Space 3. I have the directions and everything. I felt such a wave of relief whisk over me when I finally figured out how to get all that information! I highly anticipate my first trip to Dave’s grave. And do you know when I called that cemetery, this guy Mark right, he gave me his cell phone number and said to call him a day before I come to visit and he will have someone put a stake out with a flag so I’ll easily be able to find my lover’s grave. What a darling.
But back to my primitive years, you know what really kills me? It really kills me that I spent so much time from say end of eighth grade till middle of eleventh grade with people I really didn’t even care to spend time with in the first place. For some reason, the people I did care to spend time with scared me to pieces. For instance, I spent all this time having lunch with this girl Krissy and she literally drove me insane, but still I spent all my time with her because she was one of the few people I wasn’t actually terrified of. I don’t know why I was so scared of people then, but really I don’t know why I’m still so terrified of people. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be this way if I were a mentally healthy individual. I get to be thin and I get to be beautiful, but my mental health has gone to hell, always has and always will. I have many wonderful things in my life, but mental health has never been one of them. The most difficult part is how disturbing and disruptive it’s been, how handicapped I’ve always been when it came to social skills. I can be polite and all, but I’ve never been able to handle more than a handful of friends at any given time. Like I said, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m pretty sure that something’s wrong.
So when I finally figured out where Dave’s buried and all, and was highly elated, I started thinking about what I would say to him once I get there! It’s such a silly thought that if Dave even can hear me to begin with, that he would only be able to hear me or would better be able to hear me from his gravesite! I don’t know where humans come up with these insane notions, but they sure as hell do make me laugh! Which maybe is the point all along? I don’t know. But I do know I’m taking that boy a dozen pink roses, I’ma say I’m returning them because I know he gave them to me to apologize when I was very angry with him, and now I want to give them back and let him know that I’ve forgiven him. I want to let him know that I forgive him for his trespasses against me, and that I love him still, and that I’ll love him until the day I die. I want to tell him how much I miss him and I want him to know that my love for him will never die. So that’s what I intend to do, I’ma go while I’m in North Canton staying at Stacey’s when she and Brian are at the hospital having a baby! I’ma go on a beautiful spring day and I’ma wear my beautiful white flowy skirt and I’ma tell that boy how I love him, I’ma tell him how I love him so.
Much of my past pains me terribly to even think about, but amongst all those years of darkness, Dave brought a light into my world I fear I might never find again in this whole wide world. I will never, ever regret one day I spent with him. I will always love him until the day that I die. So help me god.
And do you know what is so weird! I’ve got this American Social and Political Thought text book out that I bought and started reading last summer, just sitting on the dresser in my bedroom. And then yesterday when I was researching how I’m going to get a copy of Dave’s thesis, I learned that the boy majored in Political and Social Thought. Now if that’s not hot damn FDC then I don’t know what is!
It just amazes me, all the similarities Dave and I seem to have had in terms of political, psychosocial and philosophical thought. I mean those are pretty broad topics, they cover a lot of ground, but there are definitely far fewer people who are interested in any of the given topics, let alone all three. I’m simply amazed. I don’t know what else to say.
I hate that I live in a world where I have to wonder whether Mark gave me his cell phone number so he could set me up to rob or rape me. I hate having to think of the most awful possible scenarios in order to protect myself. I suppose it constitutes protection physically, but I’m not so sure at this point how this impacts me mentally. I just hate living in that kind of a world, where you always have to be on guard because the second someone senses your naivety, you’re fucked. You’re robbed, you’re raped, you’re scammed, you’re screwed, left and right people will wring you out to dry. They’ll take whatever they can get from you and leave you high and dry. I hate living in that kind of a world. I do not want to live in that kind of a world. I do not have a choice though. I do not have a choice in the matter except to set forth good and hope to high hell and heaven above that good will find me too. That’s all I can do.
I miss Dave. I started thinking about what I want to wear with my white flowy skirt when I go to visit his grave. I can’t figure out if that sounds cryptic or not, going to visit his grave and all. Hard to tell.