I don't buy into mob-mentality.
For the less experienced, or for the emotionally unintelligent (or for those who have never experience mental illness), happiness is a thing to be had if only you simply made up your mind to have it.
Perhaps it is easy to make the decision to be happy, but like making the decision to take out the trash, it's the follow through that matters; then you forget and end up stinking like rotten eggs for a while before you finally get around to dumping the garbage.
One day I realized that "happiness" is an illusion and that it is more than anyone could ever hope for (if they have eyes and ears that work) to just be content and grateful for what you have instead of dwelling on that which you do not.
I told my shrink that I get really frustrated because I feel that a lot of people look down on me; that they feel superior for whatever reason. Maybe because I cuss a lot and they find it easier to watch their tongues. Maybe it's because I have a history of drug abuse and promiscuity and they don't. Maybe it's because I "over share" and allow myself to be vulnerable. Some people see vulnerability as weakness.
Some people disdain weakness.
Perhaps some find me unreliable and unworthy because I often generalize and become hyperbolic when I'm in a bad mood. I wonder if they realize I have yet to learn how to completely control my knee-jerk reactions. I wonder why they can't just let it slide. They have no idea what it's like to be manic--to feel like a prisoner of oneself.
"In the case of bipolar disorder, grandiose delusions are considered “mood-congruent delusions” in that they manifest from the manic (or hypomanic) state. During manic or hypomanic phases, it is believed that brain activity changes, brain waves speed up, and neurotransmitter concentrations change, particularly levels of dopamine." -Grandiosity in Bipolar Disorder: verywell.com
Usually I assume most people think I'm crazy white trash and they only keep me in their lives so that they can feel better about themselves. I’m always just on the outskirts of community. I’m like the stray dog that nobody wants to see starve, but will always be shooed away when anyone’s looking.
I find that unbearably frustrating, because even though I'm often filled with self-loathing and insecurities I can still see how freaking awesome I am. Why can't they? Why are some people so ashamed to openly care about me?
Sometime I tell myself they're just jealous.
But they probably aren't thinking of me at all.
I asked my therapist if she thought I was a narcissist and she told me, "no, but you have narcissistic reactions."
It's all part of the grandiosity that can come during mania with someone who has bipolar disorder. On the surface the grandiosity seems so arrogant and uncouth, but from what it stems is a desperate need to be heard and understood. It's a subconscious defense mechanism to protect myself against feelings of inferiority.
I find that when I'm feeling my worst my emotions are amplified by my (possibly skewed) perception that other people don't like me when I'm being myself. That often my sometimes paralyzing anxiety is triggered by the thought that I can never say what I'm thinking or feel my feelings because then people will stop liking me and I'll be left all alone penniless and friendless, roaming the streets half-naked looking for a god that doesn't exist (and even if one did, it probably wants nothing to do with me).
"So what?" asked my therapist. "If people don't like you that's not your problem."
"I think I make people uncomfortable."
"Fuck that. People are responsible for their own comfort."
I'm relieved to find out that I'm not technically a narcissist. I hate narcissists.
I'm so tired of apologizing. I'm literally exhausted by all my feelings of guilt and shame. In order for me to survive I have to stop caring if you think I'm being rude or over generalizing or being hyperbolic. I have to not give a shit if you think I'm vitriolic, abrasive or crass.
If you think I ruined your life or even just think I'm a bad influence, take a number.
I'll be first in line.