No One Cares About Crazy People
“who would love someone as passionate, as whimsical, as creative as me?
who would love someone as caring, as obsessive, as ugly as me?
as someone wanting to be
free from insanity
No One Would Love Someone Who Was As Crazy
—Mariam Abdulle, My Content Diary
Want to hear stories of an unconventional girl boss? Download Born a Crime by Trevor Noah through your 30 day audible free trial. Learn more in the video. Get Born a Crime for free as your first download using audible:
No One Cares About Crazy People
A psychiatrist once told me, “depression is not an excuse.”
I have these obsessive thoughts.
I live in a fantasy world.
I pretend to be someone I’m not.
It’s the only way to cope.
Imagine being someone who is beautiful, talented, and most importantly–sane. Sanity and clarity is all I yearn for. My brain is fogged up with a cloud and my visibility is blurred.
I sit still.
I have these ups and downs.
Believe it or not, the ups are the worst of it. I think the cloud has lifted for good only for the storm to brew a few months later.
It’s a tease.
I’m right back where I started.
In the pits of despair.
I am 20 years old. Never been in love. Haven’t graduated college. Couldn’t follow my dreams. I haven’t lived. But, at the ripe age of 20, I am ready to die.
No one cares about me.
No one cares about crazy people.
So here I am. Not dead, alive, and breathing. Alive, but in an odd place. A mental hospital. What brought me here?
I filled the tub with lukewarm water. I played music. It was a mix between meditation music and some hip hop and rap. Whatever was on my playlist to be honest. I went upstairs to get something sharp. As college students, we didn’t have a knife set, but for some odd reason we were in possession of a tool box I grabbed the box cutter. This would suffice. I wrote a suicide note. As a perfectionist who is innately horrible at everything, a terrible combination, I wasn’t satisfied with my suicide note. I also unhealthily imagined how people would find me. I was terrified that I would traumatize my roommates. I did not want to be found naked, so I put on a sports bra and spandex. I slipped into the soothing water with the music faintly playing in the background. I glanced at the box cutter. I glanced at my bare forearms. I was ready.
Sometimes it is beneficial to admit to cowardice. As humans, we are innately imperfect. My generation grew up watching Hannah Montana, and I think she said it best, “Nobody’s perfect.” I am frightened that I do not know what objectives I want to accomplish in a post-undergraduate world. I question my abilities because I am idealistic in what I want to accomplish, but life has a way of guiding us on a path we did not plan. However, one thing I strive for during my time in college is to appreciate learning. By taking my medication and being aware of my health, I will continue to be diligent in my studies. My one year of undergraduate study and my previous awareness of current events have taught me that many people do not have the opportunity to engage in academics because of reasons beyond their control. I take what I have for granted, but it is for my own benefit to use what life has offered me to be brave. For me personally, one thing I can control is to learn from my cowardice in hopes to achieve the ability to do something that frightens me. This is what distinguishes me from many of my peers. I find humility in the things I lack, and determination in what I can learn.