You would think that question would be an easy one to answer, but it is not. The answer is not I am happy or I am sad or even it’s going to be a good day. As much as I would like it to, it is sometimes, well, most of the time a frustrating question. It has layers and depths twists and turns. I can not get to the answer as quickly as some people because of my mental health. I wake up and I do not think Yeah the world is great and I am the most luckiest woman on this earth.
I feel sadness but I also feel a deep anger within like a black roaring fiery destruction that can only turn into despair and guilt and hate towards myself. I feel happiness but I also feel a self loathing, why do I deserve to be happy considering what I have done in my life. I feel likeable but that doesn’t last for too long once the mask comes off when I’m home alone and the tiredness of this life brings me back to reality like an electrifying thunderbolt bursting my heart and shattering the magic mirror, Then I have to spend the next few hours picking up the shards and selotaping the mask. Each time it gets hideously beautiful. thank goodness for make-up.
When I am around people its hard for me to be myself. I put on several masks and hope they don’t slip so that people can not see me. I am the bright, funny, confident, forgetful, scatty, and sometimes manic Satty and people like her. Its hard though as I have to go through a process. I have to look great especially my face. Who ever invented make-up was a genius. I do wonder whether they were hiding the darkness within them. Did they have several masks or just one. Sometimes even when I do present myself I lose the mask and I am quiet and I can tell my emotions are on my sleeve. I just want to run and hide and cry. Social gatherings with the girls is too hard now. I do not go out of an evening I cant do it anymore so now I immerse myself with the Bi-Polar group, Dee Park and finally my release my art.
At night I can not wait for Ethan to go to bed. Then I am ME. the me that doesn’t have to hide as I can cry and feel the tiredness of the 3-4 lives I have to live, well actually I have several lives I live. I am the daughter, sister, aunt, mother, friend and volunteer but I am also alone. All my selves are one but are very different people. I don’t think people know, well they do now. So do I scrap this blog or continue……………..
Continue. I am self-destructive anything good in my life I hurt, break and I self sabotage. I am not allowed happiness in every part of my life. One part where I was, am ok is being a mother but then again that has its toll on me too. being mum and dad has not been easy and at time I ache for the hurt and damage I have done to my son. I know he doesn’t know but I do. Is Ethan the way he is because of the life I have given him or is he the way he is because of genetics. I do my damnedest to hide my mental health conditions from him but he knows I have Borderline Personality Disorder and Bi-Polar. In Public I tell everyone how wonderful he is and amazing and clever and just awesome, but what I don’t say is my inner worries. I do not mean whether or not he will do great in his life, get in with the wrong crowd, do drugs etc I mean those are gimmes as a parent. It’s the ones about him and does he truly know the darkest I carry, the twisted thoughts I have and whether I have passed them onto him. Is my mental health carried in his genes. Will he discover that he also has an uncontrollable anger within him. Will his anxieties reappear? Those are just a few.
After spending the weekend with some amazing talented artists I feel a fraud. The work they produced was delicate and light and conveyed a goodness within and mine I feel the opposite but those are just my thoughts. I am glad to have had some positive feedback but that didn’t last either. I want to take a Stanley knife to them, destroy them because people gave me phrase. Anything good in my life I have destroyed and only My son stands.
He gives me the strength every day to put that mask on and hide in plain sight. I am not the only person who wears masks. the majority of us wear them by make up, haircuts, manicures, beards to the clothes we choose to wear. I am so tired of them however they are a huge part of my life and I couldn’t be without them.
I have talked a lot about masks and I do at times drop my guard but those are far and few between. Then I spend so much time at night figuring out what people saw and could they see. Did I get away with it? Were they being nice to me because they saw pain or anger or despair. Could they see the emptiness that I carry? Questions questions and more questions. It’s an endless loop that goes on and this is all without the layers of paranoia that comes to sit at the door waiting to put spears of crazy to the majority of my life and the amount of time everyday that I spend keeping my paronia in check. It is an exhausting daily fight.
My brain never stops and when it does I am calm for a bit until the next situation, but that s another blog altogether.