Today I have been going through some of my older writings to give myself a reference of how far I've come in my exploration of Bipolar II. These writings I used to try and express my emotions and thoughts so that I could get them down on paper and organize them, as to understand them. I wrote the following entry back in the spring of 2009 and I thought it would be good to add to my Bipolar II Journal.
Movie Theater
The sinking feeling in my stomach hits when I hear the sound of air breaks in the distance telling me that the bus is close, just on the other side of the hill. The low growl of the engine kicks in making my stomach twinge. I look up and see that old, grimy, loud, yellow bus come over the hill heading towards me. Watching the transport to hell come my way makes me feel like a soldier at war time watching an enemy’s tank barreling across the field of battle with cannon ablaze.
The yellow hell transport stops in front of our group waiting to gather us like cattle for the slaughter. As the driver opens the door the sound of idiots permeates my head, giving me a headache. I step up and find a seat as close to the front as possible because the kids that make fun of me or join in the regular beatings I get every week like to sit in the back of the bus. I can only guess that they think they are cool if they can sit back there. I don’t understand how that makes you cool, but as long as they stay in the back it allows me to keep away from them which is just fine by me. Looking out of the bus window at Silver Spring, Maryland I can see a busy collage of people, cars, and buildings. The people of my hometown wander from one area to another like mindless drones of an ant colony. In the Metro area of Washington D.C most of the residents will say 'D.C.' and not 'Silver Spring' as though it is a badge of honor when asked 'where are you from?’ In their defense, Silver Spring is basically in D.C. and crime is the same.
School is close. I can feel it in my gut. Dread fills me along with the feeling that I am going to throw up as Einstein High School comes into view. Leaving the bus I can hear the ‘cool kids’ in the back making fat jokes and pig sounds. Relief comes over me as I see my best friend Chris; he is the only thing that keeps me going while I am in hell. We like to play Dungeons and Dragons, paint pewter figurines, talk about all the girls we like, and all the geeky stuff that interests us. Today’s discussion went to the new movie Jurassic Park. It is Friday and the movie just came out. Chris and I decide to skip school to see it.
To get off the school grounds we need to go around the back and cross the football field. On our trek around the school, many things bring back unwanted memories. The brick wall where I broke my arm because I got pushed into it, the field on the side of the school where everyone eats lunch and where I get jumped on a regular basis (before, during, and after school), and finally the football field. I have mixed feelings about being here. I have been beaten up many times here, but it is also the place were I got a little revenge. When I started going here this year the head football coach asked me to join the football team. At the time I thought it was a good idea, until I found out that all the kids that liked to join in and help out with my regular beatings all through middle school were also on the football team. I decided to leave the football team and join the golf team. Our school was the laughing stock of the county because the biggest kid in our school was not playing football, but instead playing golf. Plus, they never won a game after my short stint. The five of us on the golf team came out on this field during the pep rally. It felt great that I was bigger than everyone on the football team even with their pads on. I was playing golf instead of helping them win games, but I also don’t like the football field because there is still a stigma looming around ever since that girl last week was raped here during school hours. Everyone knows who did it, but as far as I know there haven’t been any charges brought up against them. Either the girl is too scared to come forward, or she really doesn’t know who did it because they hid their faces.
At the end of the football field we hop a small fence that links to the parking lot of an elementary school. I don’t know anyone that went to this school, but I see kids here all the time. Either they ship them to another school when they get to ninth grade, or this is a private school. On the other side of the parking lot is the local McDonald's. My stomach is feeling better the farther away from Einstein we get and food sounds like a good idea. Food helps me cope with my abuse, it also keeps me fat. I have a love-hate relationship with food, but right now I need it to relax and calm my mind.
After lunch Chris and I cross the street to the Mall. Wheaton Plaza is our local mall and it is a ghetto mall. When I was younger it had no roof and the movie theater was just added last year. We buy our tickets, get a soda, popcorn, and grab our normal seats which are five rows from the front and in the middle. The feeling of dread that I started this day with has gone away as Chris and I talk about movies and eat our popcorn; laughing and making jokes all the way up to when the previews start. As the lights go down I finally feel relaxed. The movie theater is the only place, besides home, that I feel safe and comfortable.
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