How Stranger Things 4 Got to Bipolar Me

*TRIGGER WARNING*

No Spoilers, I Know!

As usual, Stranger Things didn’t disappoint (Part one of Season 4). They say this is not the last season, but they could end it and I would understand. One thing about U.S. TV shows is that we have a million seasons of things that probably should end sooner than they do. The kids are growing up but if they wanted to make a spin off, I would gladly watch. But that’s not even what this post is about.

In the very last scenes of the first half of Season 4, there was a dialogue that I had to write down because it is how my diseased mind feels a LOT, especially lately. This world is going to hell. It has already been established. Nothing is going to get better; I know that we’re supposed to think positive, but one can’t be positive when all you see is the same thing happening over and over again but getting worse each time. Or at least that’s how it seems to someone like me who is bipolar with suicidal ideations (they come back sometimes and I’m almost at a year of being out of the psych ward).

What Was Said?

Humans are a unique type of pest multiplying and poisoning our world while enforcing a structure of their own. Where others saw order, I saw a strait jacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades; each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die! Everyone is just waiting for it all to be over while performing a silly, terrible play day after day after day. – #001

I Feel This … Why?

I tell people that I have a diseased mind and I do. Regular people don’t really think like this. They try to see the good in things. I try to do this, but I am constantly disappointed by people to the point that I don’t even really want to interact with them in person. Granted, I have very understanding and trustworthy friends but I trust those few only.

The truth is I do exactly what this man said: I wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce and wait for death. I don’t want to be here, but I know that I have to be here until I am taken away. So, I perform this “silly, terrible play” every single day because I am expected to by society. You can’t even swallow all your pills without the police coming to stop you from doing it. So, you just have to grin and bear it hoping that someone takes you out instead of having to sit here. My dad has the same feelings. I talk to him about this because we are the same in this regard. However, we have genes that don’t make that possible. I have aunts and uncles on HIS side that are in their 90s and one that turned 100. We’re screwed.

As my therapist always tells me “God has a sense of humor”. Those of us that don’t want to be here are going to be here for a long time. We wish for death, but it won’t come; at least not when we want it to come. So, we sit and wait. I have spoken in my older blogs about how I used to wonder why no one shot and killed me if I didn’t live in the best area. One day, I tried to step out in front of a car in Bethesda and a stranger pulled me back. I thanked her and cursed her at the same time. Society wants us to be thankful for life but many of us are just here because we’re supposed to be here.

We serve some purpose, or someone just wants to see us suffer. I don’t know which it is, but I guess I’ll just be here until someone or something blows us up or I die of natural causes. I also noticed that I have gotten used to struggling. I figured this out at work actually in a group. I was told that no one should get used to or be comfortable in struggling. When that is your life, what else can you expect? It becomes your reality and, when you feel powerless, you just accept it and just live with it. Even when you try to do better, things don’t get better. And this isn’t just something that you can make go away by thinking positive. When you have a brain like mine, you want to think the best, but you get disappointed so much you just have to be a “realist”. This is how you protect yourself from disappointment. It is a defense mechanism of sorts.

Sadly, There’s More: Fear

Because I have wanted things to be over so much, I now have a fear of being happy. I have always had a fear of being left alone by someone that I absolutely loved so I didn’t allow myself that privilege. I really have to tell you guys about why I let a very GOOD man go. I self-sabotaged because I was not only afraid of being happy, but I was afraid that something would take him away from me. I allowed someone in one time, and he broke my heart so bad I never tried again (I accept that as Karma in all honesty). Single by choice. Why? Because, with my luck, I’ll marry him, he’ll get cancer and I’ll have to watch him die.

I also now have a fear that, when I’m happy, all the death that I have been wishing upon myself will come to fruition and I won’t truly get to experience pure happiness. There is no one to blame but me and my broken brain.

But … these are the thoughts of a mad, suicidal, bipolar woman. This is just a slight glimpse into the mind of someone like me. Remember, my thoughts are my thoughts. I am not a representative of anyone else with my mental illness. But these are my thoughts. I don’t expect these thoughts to make sense to anyone. But they’re certainly thoughts, aren’t they?