I wasn’t sure where I was going to post this or if I was going to post this. Then I remembered being at a show where Fight was playing. My best friend and I have always loved Rob Halford’s voice. I was close to the stage and someone kept touching my rear end. I would try to look behind me but we were packed in like sardines. I was getting annoyed and I was drunk. Not a good combination for me or anyone around me at the time. But I was letting it go. That was until the person put his hand between my legs then it wasn’t going to be ignored. Since I couldn’t really move, but knew it was the guy behind me, I made a fist and swung it backwards connecting with his face. He wasn’t happy. Security wasn’t happy and was trying to get to me. I explained what was going on but they didn’t care. I was getting angrier.
At certain shows they didn’t like girls up front or in “the pit” because we got in their way. Bodyslamming was a guy thing. I didn’t spend money to be in the back of the room so these morons could run into each other. Another time we tried to get up front for Pantera. I was doing ok but my Barbie resembling friend wasn’t so I had to take a few elbows to the face to get to her. We were lucky there were some decent guys we knew that got involved to break it up. She was being groped everywhere and I was just getting stomped. Ridiculous times. But when you add alcohol to events like these, and a pack mentality, sometimes it’s what happens. What always bothered me was the acceptance of it.
When I found the YouTube video of Aaron Lewis stopping in the middle of playing to yell at some guys for touching an underage girl while she was body surfing I was blown away. It’s sad that I was because I haven’t seen it happen before. I have been to many, many shows in my time and that was the first time I’ve seen an artist intervene. In a perfect world he wouldn’t have had to but I give him credit for doing it when no one else has that I know of. Others may have but the way he did it was memorable. Maybe more will become aware of the problem.
You won’t read this because you don’t go on the computer and stay away from social media. That’s ok I’m writing it anyway.
I met you when we were 12 years old. I remember we had to get shots for school or something, our mother’s were talking but we weren’t. I remember thinking how pretty you were and how you must have a lot of friends. We did start talking and it turned out you didn’t have a lot of friends. We shared the same strange sense of humor, liked horror movies and the same music. The music turned out to be Judas Priest, Motley Crue, Kiss, and all the band’s from that time. We worshiped them. It was just you and me against the world. Even though I have a twin sister I was closer to you. You understood me.
At 17 we hooked up with an older crowd of guys. This did neither of us any good. You could handle it, I could not. At times you were so oblivious to what was really going on it was frustrating. When I tried to tell you some of it a few years ago you had doubts. If there is one thing a person with Bipolar is good for it’s remembering the bad stuff. There were times I physically had to get between you and a group of guys because you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings. They would try to literally grab you. You didn’t even notice. I would step in and take care of it. There was a time a girl was looking for you at a party. She had a gun in her purse and was pissed you were dating her ex. Someone pointed me out to her and said “that’s her bodyguard you might want to rethink things”. She left really fast. I punched one of your boyfriends in the face when I found out he had hit you. I did these things because you never judged me and always loved me no matter what.
As we grew older things changed. My drinking was out of control. I started to notice a few things I didn’t like. You had a new boyfriend but refused to tell the old one that things were definitely over. I liked the new one. He’s kind, generous and thoughtful. He was living with you and I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t tell the other one the truth. So in my drunken obnoxious state I did. You were furious. It was our first fight in 20 years. You told me what right did I have getting involved when I’ve never even had a boyfriend or been in love. This broke me. Her boyfriend could see that and made her stop. He said ” can’t you see what you are doing to her? That’s enough!”. One of the few people to ever speak up for me. The next morning she crawled into my bed crying and said how sorry she was. The damage was already done.
Not long after that I was diagnosed Bipolar and quit drinking. I think you resented the fact that I wasn’t working. You were tired of the drama. You were part of a couple and I wasn’t. Alcohol was always around. When I did come over I talked more to the boyfriend than you. I realized we didn’t have much in common anymore. You don’t watch tv or movies, you don’t care about clothes, hair or make-up. You do care about cleaning and your yard. You don’t want to hear any bad news or anything negative because you get enough of that “at your job”. You’re a mail carrier not a bartender or a shrink so I don’t know why you’re hearing everyone’s problems at work. The last time I saw you it killed me. You rolled your eyes as I pulled up. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid. This was a month ago and I haven’t talked to you yet.
All of this hurts me. But I understand. It isn’t easy being around me. I don’t want to be around me. This is the hand I was dealt so I’m doing the best I can to keep my head above water. It isn’t easy I have to look for a reason everyday. There are days I can’t find one and those are the hardest. The isolation. I wish you knew the price I have paid to try to get better. Sometimes the price is too high, people ask too much of me. I am a burden and I know this. I also know I love you and we had some good years out of the 30 we’ve known each other. I don’t blame you or anyone else that choses not to be in my life anymore. It’s ok I will carry on.
I have been in a bad place mentally and physically for a long time now. It really started to be noticed around the beginning of October. Several things could be a factor. Celiacs like me go in to early menopause, the change in weather, the decline in my father’s health, info from the Dr. that wasn’t promising and my own declining health that I have not wanted to deal with. These are all triggers for Depressive episodes. Talking about drinking and my sobriety isn’t giving anyone advice. It’s questioning why I had better days then than I do now. If you had to be me for a day you might understand. I wake up around 10:30 – 11:00 a.m. trying to lift my head from the pillow. This is difficult because I am exhausted and the pain in my neck, head, and shoulders is severe. When I finally make it I have to find food that is appealing and doesn’t make me feel sick to my stomach just looking at it. Then I have to take my my meds. 3 and a half pills in the morning. If anyone talks to me before this I stutter and cry. I am then yelled at for stuttering and crying. Once I am settled I can sit in my recliner and go online or sometimes watch tv. If my small intestine is not leaking too badly I can do my jewelry and maybe some housework if my muscles allow it. I have a muscle wasting disease that makes my arms and legs weak. I also have another autoimmune problem leaving me open to all bacterial infections and a low white blood cell count and something to do with my bone marrow. If my small intestine isn’t happy the meds do not work as well leaving me in the past to sit and think and cry some more. Feeling like you are in a 12 foot hole with no way out but that’s ok because you belong there. You are nothing, never were, never will be. Excuse me for looking back at some of my drinking days and seeing them as better than this. Isolated, alone, a burden to everyone. And now being aware of it when you were not before. And yes as I have said before I have tried numerous therapists, shock therapy, every med made for Bipolar Disorder. I am staying with the 7 a day I take now, they have the least side effects and work a little better than all the others. I am not uneducated. In high school I took college courses in business management, Accounting and Psychology. I always had an A in English Literature. I have cognitive problems now but I didn’t always. I have had this hole in my chest for too long, longer than any human should have to endure. And the loop that plays in my head and haunts me with regret, guilt, shame, and sometimes hopelessness I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Only one person knows most of what I see and she is the only one to cry for me and ask how I can live with it. I tell her because I have to and I would miss her smiling ass, my best friend. We don’t really talk anymore, everyone has their own problems and sure as he’ll don’t want to hear mine. It will get better eventually and I’ll stay sober I just don’t need the criticism I can do that to myself.