Posted in Bipolar Diaries

This is the boy.

This is the boy.

He is neat and tidy, loves to live in a clean house. There is a place for everything, and everything in its place. There are pots built up in the sink, the kitchen bin overflows. Clothes lie disregarded on the floor. Starting to work through the mess is too much to think about.

This boy loves to sing. And he really can. He’s always been at home on the stage and has performed to thousands of people over the years. He’s a natural, so confident. He feels nothing but hatred for himself. He shuts the curtains and hides away. When he’s in a crowd it feels like everyone is looking, judging, laughing.

Looking good is important to the boy, and he takes it seriously. Nice clothes, crisp shirts, expensive fragrance, hair just-so. He looks good and feels good. He wears the same clothes for days, if he gets dressed at all. He’s not going anywhere so who’s going to see?

This boy loves to cook. He buys fresh ingredients and experiments with new dishes. He likes to treat people by cooking for them, hosting dinner parties and always presenting food beautifully. All his food is ordered online from takeaways. When it’s delivered, he hands over any money as quickly as possible. He eats the food in bed. Sometimes he doesn’t eat at all. He’d rather starve. He thinks this is what he deserves.

He’s rational, this boy. He takes things as they come, and is often much calmer than others. A parking ticket? No problem. Smashed phone? It can be replaced. He’s good at judging his own reactions and has a logical, reasoned approach. He understands that in the grand scheme of things, they may cause some disruption but they wont change the course of his life. Everyone is conspiring against him. At home he searches the house for hidden cameras or microphones.

The boy is the life and soul of the party. Friends love his laughter and vitality. He has a great sense of humour and people love to be around him. His energy and warmth are what people know him for. A knock at the door is aggressive and unnesecary. Anxiety floods him when the phone rings. The laughter is a covet, there’s no clarity, he’s alone amongst friends. He feels like he’s always wearing a mask.

Confident, supportive, resiliant, organised. Logical, clear, respected. A great future ahead. These are the things other people say about the boy. Alone, in darkness, hopeless are things he’d say about himself.

A lust for life is something our boy has always had. He doesnt just look for opportunities, he makes them. Ideas come to him all the time, he starts new businesses, innovates and is incredibly productive. He has boundless energy. Lifting a fork is hard work. Waking up and facing the day is the hugest of challenges, his body is too heavy for him. He thinks it might be better not to be alive, every moment is painful.

It may be hard to understand. It may seem like these statements contradict. That there are two boys in this story, and in a way that’s true. The happy, care free figure, the confident self assured boy is just one half of a whole.

This is the boy. Who struggles and fights to seem “normal” to people who judge and wont understand. This is the boy who doubts himself constantly, who wonders who he really is, who is unsure of what belongs to his personality and what’s caused by his illness. This is the boy living with Bi-polar disorder.

And this is the man the boy became.

Written by my twinny, the utterly fabulous, beautiful and insanely talented. Sophie Tilly xxx

Author:

The only way to combat mental health stigma is to talk openly about mental health illness and educate ignorance. Let's see if we can do our bit and share our experiences...

2 thoughts on “This is the boy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s