Day Sixteen: Medicate this! Confessions of a Real Life Sad Person.

I have several issue-based blogs rumbling around in my head to give you a break from my whiny, self-indulgent ponderings, but please forgive me for just one more narcissistic rant.

I've been pondering my moodiness ever since I started feeling re-energized following the discovery that my thyroid and vitamin D levels were way out of whack. I've felt generally better and more upbeat since getting both of those imbalances corrected and yet I remain . . . well, me. Where is the bouncy, happy-go-lucky Ame that everyone seems to think I should be? Why can't I manage the same positivity that everyone else seems to not only display, but to actually enjoy? Why, instead of just accepting and not caring about the seemingly unwashed, thrift store shopping hipsters that wander from Williamsburg to the East Village and around Plaza Midwood (Charlotte, NC) with their super cool, Jack Kerouac attitudes do I get so annoyed by them and want to shove their heads under the tap to be washed? "Stop being so judgmental and why do you care," admonished a friend recently.

I have no earthly idea why I care. They irritate me the way the pink-shirted, braided belt Southern twenty-something men irritate me and the overly put together, up-talking girls irritate me. They just do. I get irritated about all sorts of things, people, issues, stupidity, ignorance, loud children, slow people, overly chill people, overly anal people. It's just who I am. I'm sorry I can't be more positive all the time, I'm sorry I notice all the shit in the world along with all the beauty. Perhaps I just have better peripheral vision, because when I look at the world I don't just see that the glass is half full or half empty. I see both.

So the question I began to ask myself is, why? Why can't I simply see the good with it's rainbows and unicorns and fairy dust like so many other people I know? Why do I choose to be the champion for what is wrong in the world? It's certainly not my goal to be negative, but then again, why do I have to change and be like everyone else? If I am to be chastised for pointing out and judging those who annoy me, then why can't you just accept that I'm like them, in that I am different and not a fit for your nicey-nice mold? Why am I wrong for simply being me and feeling what I feel? Stop telling me to smile. I don't happen to want to walk around with a grin, it gives you wrinkles anyway, so maybe I'm just trying to preserve my smooth complexion.

Or maybe there is more to it. I'm not a martyr walking around with a brave face when times are low. I'll never be my Mother and I've learned that I do not want to be. The truth, and I'm sorry to upset you with it, is that I'm sad. I am sad every single day. Sometimes just a little and sometimes a lot. I have been sad for a very long time and your desire to remake me into some Suzy Sunshine version of myself is just never going to play. I'm sorry to upset the balance of your world with my reality, but I refuse to change just to keep your Peter Pan view of life intact. I feel no need to take artificial mood enhancers or to attempt to tweak my brain chemistry. I'm not bi-polar or schizophrenic or even dangerous, aside from my lethal sarcasm. This is just who I am and you'll have to deal with that or remove yourself from my company.

No one feels the need to tone down their excessive case of "chipper" around me or to cease telling me about the wonderful joys of their fabulous life of Bunco parties and alcohol-free backyard BBQs. So step off. If I feel the need to rant about Don't Ask, Don't Tell, the increasing health crisis and terrorist swell in Haiti, or the disturbing need for right-wing fuckwits to tell me what I can do with my body that is my choice. Since I seem to be the one under constant pressure to conform and paint a pretty picture over my real emotions, let me just clue you in on one little thing: I don't need you. I'd rather have a few genuine friends around me who understand that not all my days are sunny, than a mob of good timers.

Why should I have to pretend for your comfort level or take medication to artificially alter my moods to one you approve of? I'm only the person I am and while I still love to laugh and joke and be silly, I'm okay with being a little sad. As I mentioned to a friend tonight, life isn't supposed to be easy, but it is most definitely an interesting journey. I'm not sure that I'll ever get over the bad times completely. It seems as soon as one wraps up another takes its place. Maybe all life really is, is just a string of good or bad experiences. I apologize if I'm not constantly looking for the silver lining, you'll just have to get used to it. If you don't mind, however, perhaps you could look a little harder to see that life isn't a game of CandyLand. I wouldn't mind if you'd be willing to notice some of the bad sometimes too, in fact, you might find it refreshing to realize your happy little planet is not, in fact, the center of the universe.