Always feeling different, in a room full of schoolmates. Outcast, in my mind, just knowing that the kids could see inside me. It began in kindergarten, even then, when the little boy I was in love with ran away from me. Mom had asked me to get the recipe for his Mom’s Syrian Bread, but he must have thought I wanted to kiss him, because he ran away from me, all the way down the road to his house.
He’s a successful doctor all these years later. And me? I’m still painted green. You see, that is the best way I can explain what being Bipolar feels like, in a crowd. Like you are chartreuse in a room full of normal people. I explained to my therapist that all my life (before diagnosis and psych meds) I felt as if I were in a movie, an endlessly rolling recording of every move I made. That would make a person feel conspicuous, wouldn’t it?
I certainly am better now, 21 years after diagnosis, med regimen, and therapy. But I still feel green sometimes..,