Tag Archives: Bipolar Disorder

Selling Happy Pills

Selling Happy Pills

I think this photo came at the right time, and I think it’s more than enough to express how I feel.

You see, all of this isn’t easy, and explaining everything that goes on in my head will never be easy. No one will ever understand because no one has ever spent at least twenty-four hours as me and exactly me. But if there’s one thing I know I can always do and do well, it’s focusing on other people. Infecting others with happiness. Throwing bombs of laughter at other people’s faces.

Let me say it like this: you see, when I was a kid, my mom had this store, and there are times when I had to watch over the store and sell stuff whenever customers would come by. The only rule my mother gave me was not to eat anything at the store because they were all for sale and were for customers only; that if I ever need something to eat, I should just go to the kitchen and grab some grub instead of eating things from the store that are meant for customers and only the customers. And that’s the thing: you have something, but you’re not allowed to have it. It’s intended for other people.

And that’s what I’m good at. I’m a mess, a mental wreck, and honestly I have no idea what to do with myself so I sell happiness, and a helping hand, free of charge, even if I end up having none of it in the end. They say you can’t give what you don’t have, but I think they’re wrong. I figured if I helped enough people, made them laugh hard enough and just gave them enough of my time, it would distract me from the real issue pushing me down, which is my mind. It didn’t matter if I still had to go through my own problems alone. The fact is that as long as I was being thoroughly distracted by other people, I was perfectly okay. I guess now I know I was wrong; that I could lean on my friends as much as they’ve been leaning on me, even if it’s all new to me and I’ve been so used to riding solo when it comes to my problems.

I shouldn’t think this way. No one should think this way. Everyone should be able to at least get a taste of the happiness they’re selling to other people.

Perhaps this is also why I take great pride in my loyalty, because in all honesty, it’s really all I can offer my friends that’s worth anything.

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The Problem With Sharing The Problem

Let me just clear this up.

I just don’t want to bother people with my problems anymore.

I saw this on Tumblr and maybe it’s not so bad that other people feel the same way I do.

It’s not that I don’t trust other people enough to tell them about my problems; in fact, I trust my friends with my life and everything that comes along with my depression package, it’s just that when I tell them about my problems too much and too often, I get scared that they may find my problems shallow and repetitive even when they aren’t and it almost kills me every day, and that’s one of the things I fear most.

I have always been this way ever since I discovered the existence of problems. I try to solve them by myself as much as I can so I wouldn’t have to bother anybody, and when I feel like I finally need a hand, I ask for it. Most of the time though, I just don’t know when to admit that I can’t handle something by myself and I really do need to ask for some help. I don’t think this is a matter of pride involving my abilities; it’s just the fact that I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m such a burden. I don’t want to bother other people. Yes, I find comfort in their company, but it’s just hard to be that kind of person.

I actually want to get rid of this quality and try to find more comfort in telling others how I really feel to lessen the weight on my shoulders. So that they may also help me in carrying my baggage the way they’ve always been carrying theirs just fine.

Though I suppose this also may have something to do with the way I see my mental and emotional strength, because other people depend on me too. Perhaps it’s a fear that I don’t want to show them any hints of weakness, that I may somehow be obsessed with the idea of being an epitaph of mental strength that this drives me not to tell anyone my problems and try to solve them all by myself, even if it costs me my sanity.

But like I said, whatever reason I have for being so secretive when it comes to my inner conflicts, if given the chance, the only thing I want is to get rid of it; get rid of the habit. Because I have always been this way towards everybody, there are no exceptions, and now that I am still this way, I’m afraid it’s been bad enough that I just might lose the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t afford that. I have no idea what might happen to me or what I might do if I lose it. The mental and emotional strife of the present is more than enough for me to handle; I don’t know what’s going to happen to me if things got any worse than they already are.

I hope that never happens.

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