The worst thing about being naked and then being hit by a car is that road rash is a problem for skin.
Why was I naked in the middle of the road at noon? I’m glad you asked, imaginary other half of this conversation! I have no idea. Some characteristics of bipolar disorder include dissociation, hallucinations, and fugue states, so sometimes, I wake up in places I didn’t go to sleep.
Has this ever been a problem? My, you are inquisitive, imaginary conversation partner! And also a bad listener. See aforementioned attempt to befriend a windshield.
So there I am, nude, rolling on the hood of a car screaming about the government conspiracy to take away my feet. Not my real feet, just my brain feet.
I’m about six inches from the concrete when I realize, in slow motion: like the exact opposite of a bank robbery, this… is not how I imagined my life would turn out.
When I was young, I broke both of my ankles because I was sure a cape would enable me to fly. My parents attributed this to my strong imagination. When I did this last year, my therapist called it a delusion. I fail to see the difference.
Also, I really can fly and see the future and make people leave coffee shops with my mind 43% of the time. The point is, here is a list of things my brain has told me to do: join a cult, start a cult, become a cabinet maker, kill myself (so, in essence, become a cabinet maker), break into and then paint other peoples’ houses, have sex with literally everyone who reminds me of my mother, fight people who are much… fightier than me, like the cops (so, in essence, kill myself).
I think a lot about killing myself, not like a point on a map, but rather like a glowing exit sign at a show that’s never been quite bad enough to make me want to leave. See, when I’m up I don’t kill myself because holy shit! there’s so much left to do! And when I’m down, I don’t kill myself because then the sadness would be over and the sadness is the old paint under the new. I’d still be me without it, but I’d be so boring!
When they first told me I had bipolar disorder, I was somehow still surprised like, “You mean not everyone sees demons and feels as though they are covered in insects several times a day?” As it turns out, seeing and feeling things that aren’t technically there is called “disordered cognitive functioning”. I call it “having a fucking superpower”. Sometimes, I see people as colors. This guy right here (gestures to man in audience) is purple, which means he just got a promotion or a blow job. A blowmotion, if you will.
Y’all, sometimes I really can see the future. The future, it looks like a child in a cape. The future looks like gravity. Everyone just wants to be a part of someone else. The future is a small town we’re all gonna move to someday. I saw the future. I did, and in it, I was alive.
My god, I was alive.