There’s a rumor going around that I might be bipolar.
This is insulting.
Just because I look like a planet is absolutely no reason for people to get nasty.
Personally the term bipolar brings to my head this image of a polar bear that swings both ways.
Since the possibility exists that what I am maybe actually a medical condition, I felt that I need to explore the matter, after which, I aim to ignore it completely.
I am jobless that way. Some one once asked me, if people's opinion of me matters to me. I would not be blogging if it did.
So with the help of a friend, who has tremendous experience dealing with someone who has this condition, I set out to find out more about this.
I am also the king of denials. My wife can attest to this fact.
It’s never my fault. Ask her.
The problem is I am so good at fooling myself; I am not sure if I will be able to see if truth stands in front of me and does a strip tease.
I do not think I am bipolar but this, if it turns out to be the case, gives me the perfect excuse for all my actions hence forth.
It will be my very own Get Out of Jail Free card.
My own PMS.
This will be great.
So, I did a survey.
I spoke to my friends.
The conversation went like this.
Me (on the phone): Hey, Hi. I just wanted to ask you a question.
Bloke friend: No. I didn’t borrow any money from you.
Me: No no. It’s something else.
Bloke: Oh, ok. Shoot.
Me: Do you think I am crazy?
Bloke: yeah man, totally. You are the craziest arsehole I know.
Me: no you fuck face. Do you think I am, like, you know? Mentally unstable?
Bloke: Of course man. You are totally insane.
Me: oh, fuck it. Where’s the cash you owe me?
Bloke: you are crazy; I never borrowed any money from you. You are just imagining things. Go see a shrink.
I come away confused.
You really can’t ask a male friend if you are crazy. They just lack perspective.
So I turned to my girl friends. Well, actually they are all my wife's friends. There's this unspoken deal between my wife and them that they should check in on me once in a while, since she’s not here anymore. My wife is convinced that I will loss the plot when she’s not there to buffer me from myself.
So I called them.
Me: Hey, do you think I am bipolar?
Me: Do you even know what bipolar is?
Me: Enlighten me.
She: It’s what you have.
Me: And that is?
She: You know? Where you swing between moods.
Me: I most definitely do not swing between moods. Fuck man, that sounds like a fucking monkey.
She: Will you stop swearing? I am going to tell mads.
Me: Fine. You go fucking tell mads that I am fucking swinging between moods.
Me: Fuck you.
She: I don’t even know why I bother.
Me: You really think I am bipolar? I don’t feel like a bipolar.
She: Well maybe not exactly bipolar but there's something definitely wrong with you.
Me: What the fuck do you mean there's something wrong with me?
She: You are not exactly normal.
Me: Of course I am not normal, that is my whole USP. This me is a finely chiseled put together piece of art. One of a kind.
She: Fuck you tys.
Me: I am serious, I am yet to meet another me.
She: Fuck you. You know very well what I mean.
Me: Yeah (I don’t)
She: You need help.
Me: No, I just need sex.
She: Go fuck yourself. I am going to tell mads.
Me: Don’t flatter yourself. I am a far better company to myself than you can ever hope to be.
Me: Never mind. Bye.
I am not convinced. So I asked mads.
Me: hey mads, how’s it going?
Mads: work. What about you?
Me: iam fine. Hey, do you think there’s something wrong with me?
Mads: like what?
Me: you know, the kind of person I am is due to some medical condition.
Mads: there’s nothing wrong with you.
Me: you sure? I mean, sometimes I don’t connect. I see things differently. I am unable to connect. The core is unaffected inside. Things happen on the surface and subside. Is that normal? Maybe the whole thing is just a mental disorder.
Mads: You are just alone tys. You are seeking some sort of validation. Just come home.
Me: Yeah. Soon.
Inside. None of it matters. These answers.
But a guy can still play with himself, can't he?
Next , the shrink.
I think I just hit the mother lode of material for my deprived blog.
Maybe we can start a bookie thingy here. Is he or isnt he? Maybe I might put up a poll here. We will take bets. Fortunes will be won and lost here.
The odds are against me.
My favourite bipolar joke :
I don't believe in Satan, I just think God has Bipolar Disorder