11. Stigmatized


I was able to read some of Darius’ writings, in an effort to explain and help them understand. Here is what she wrote, appropriately entitled – “A Case Study”.




It’s not like I’m unhinged or anything…well, maybe I am. No, that’s not true. I just…I don’t express myself the ways that I should. I don’t…”share” my emotions like everybody else does, you know, the sappy way. The tears and screams and pure anguish and joy, no, not me. Life’s fickle, the people, society, communities, all very fickle. I don’t understand it at all, I wonder if anybody does…wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. I was telling you that I’m fine, really, I am. You don’t believe me, do you? Well damn you then! I don’t care what you think, I know that I’m fine. You’re crazy, how’s that? I’m no more unusual than anybody else, understand? I just don’t talk as much as I should, but why should I? It only leads to more troubles. My problems are my own, nobody else’s, only mine. I can deal with it, I can handle it. I’m tougher than you think, stronger than anybody wants to believe. Unhinged? No, I’m fine, I just handle things my own way because everybody else’s methods failed.


Insanity: Persistent mental disorder or derangement. No longer in scientific use. Maybe they should start using it again. I’m not sure, some people are very strange in the world. They don’t understand how simple it is to get help, to just reach out and touch it. It’s all around, everywhere. There’s this person I know, they don’t really grasp the truth, they think that…how do I explain? They don’t talk. It’s not like they’re mute, it’s just…they don’t tell people when something is bothering them. See, when we have issues, they pile up like layers. They stack up like a tower over time until the tower is too tall and collapses. By sharing we get rid of these problems and remove layers, preventing a breakdown. People who don’t talk break down a lot and can’t control when, where or how. It’s very sad in a sense I suppose. The thing is, there’s an answer out there, within grasp. You just have to want it enough.


Unhinged. I’m not unhinged. There’s nothing wrong with me you know. I’m fine, really. I have a family that’s…tolerable. Sure, they fight, but doesn’t every family? Mine’s just like everybody else. Screaming is part of everybody’s life, right? Nobody’s perfect, they get a little fed up from time to time, they have to release some tension sometimes too. If they want to take it out on me, I should just grin and bear it, they raised me after all, I should do something to help them. School’s




just like it’s supposed to be: people, its’ classes of people and groups and divisions. It’s how it’s meant to be, tolerable. Life and everything in it is tolerable. I don’t hate life, I just get frustrated with it sometimes, it gets me and drives me to a point where everything is inverted. I don’t want to die, I accept the fact that I have to sometime, but I don’t go looking for it…I don’t think. I’m a little tense, just a little. Everybody’s got some problems, everybody’s been to that point where temper can’t be controlled. It’s not like I’m going to get frustrated and kill someone, I know better than that. I know much better. When I get annoyed, I just hit something, whatever’s close. Sometimes it’s a pillow, sometimes it’s something more solid. Either way, it’s my way to release anger. It’s better than doing worse things. I’m not unhinged or crazy, really. I’m not emotionally unbalanced or troubled. There’s no fancy word for me, I’m simply myself. If you’ve got a problem with that, fine, I’m not asking you to like me. I wish I could be accepted, but if not, oh well then. My life is all I’ve known, and as far as can be told, I like it. Fitting in is overrated, I’d rather be proud to be myself instead of someone else. Life’s fickle and strange, but I’m fine. I’m myself, that’s it.


Crazy people aren’t likely to admit that they’ve got something wrong. This person I know wouldn’t. I guess I’m their polar opposite, I understand when something bothers me and I know that I’ve got to share and handle it, I can’t bury it in pain. I’ve tried to reach out and assist my counterpart, but have been refused. Some people are so stubborn…we’re all alike really. School has divisions meant to keep us all apart; preps, jocks, cheerleaders, freaks, honor students, but in reality we’re all the same. We all bleed red and we all live and die. I don’t see why people let such petty boundaries separate us a human beings. My counterpart sees everything as its’ own group, everybody’s the same yet different. I agree with that in some points I suppose, but not entirely. Life isn’t all darkness and gloom, there are joyous parts of the equation. I intend to help this person because they’re human. Not because I feel sorry for them or anything like that, just because some people need a hand sometimes and are too proud to admit it. I’m determined to help before things get too complicated…


I don’t like people, no, I don’t like certain people. There’s just something about most people that makes my skin crawl. My life is my problem, I don’t respect people trying to butt into it. They only want to screw with my head anyway, play the role, act like a shrink and get that feel of accomplishment for saving another lost soul. Too bad, they don’t get all that off of me. No, there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m sick of people pushing me to believe that there is. It’s crazy, insane, I’m fine, they won’t let it go. I try so hard to keep it all in and live a life characteristic to myself and not let others distort or destroy it, but still they try. I push them away and let it be, I don’t need their pity or sympathy. Their false truths and deceit isn’t something I need added to my tensions. I have enough bothering me. Now that’s my family’s…no, almost had me there. Almost had me pouring out my heart to you, telling you everything. Who are you anyway? I don’t know you and it’s none of your business anyway. Just like that one person trying to provoke me to talk, it won’t work. They’ll give up, everybody quits, people lose hope, it dies and fades…


It’s been awhile now and I can’t get through. I can’t succeed, but I won’t be turned down. I’ll manage this, I know it. My counterpart needs me, needs my help specifically, I know it. I can feel


it in my heart, and I won’t abandon this call. People such as this much be shown compassion, they must see the truth that is humanity. Not everybody is cold and wicked, there are still pure-hearted people left in the world. This is like a battle, good and evil, a race against the clock, My counterpart grows worse by the week and still refuses to change or listen to me. I’ve tried several approaches, none successful. I feel like a great wisdom is watching over me, a spirit guiding my movements, judging my failure. Weeks turn to months and still I am ignored. I exist but am answered only in ignorance. I see the tensions grow and emotions weaken. I must do something soon.


They need to leave me alone! Back off and let it be. I’m fine, pushing the issue only makes it worse, and I need them to leave me alone, let me be. I’m fine! Anger management they told me today, I need anger management. All because I hit a wall and broke my hand, I need anger help. I don’t need help! It’ll heal, I’m fine, really. I’m sick of telling these pseudo-freaks that I’m okay and to leave me alone, they just don’t get the point, they won’t accept the big picture. I’m breaking down because of them, I’d be fine if they’d have left me alone, I would be. This wouldn’t have happened if they’d let me be. Damn them! My family’s so mad at me now because of the medical bills, they screamed at me so much because of them. They’re so mad at me…


My counterpart did something extreme today – hit a wall. The fist shattered, it wasn’t a great sight. The most peculiar thing was that there was no sound…no, let me restate that. What I mean is…well, think of a movie. When someone breaks something, they usually yell and scream. Not here…of course there was the loud snap of the break and only a short, brief yell. After that, nothing. Some funny faces and pain, but afterward, silence. It was the calm after the storm, but it was too quick. It’s falling apart quickly, I have to do something quick before it’s too late. I have to…my counterpart is breaking down, these outbursts are becoming commonplace. I’m going to talk to the family and find some answers, no, maybe that’s too far. I’ll talk to the school and get their advice on how to help. Maybe I should just give up, is it really worth all this?


My father beat the hell out of me today. He got a call from school saying that they were “concerned” about me due to a student. When I find out who it was, I’ll kill him. No more games, I’m sick of this. I don’t need the stress and tension. Are you proud now? Look what you’ve done, what I’m reduced to. I’m fine, I’m not unhinged…I’m fine…


My counterpart found out what I did and hit me. I guess I should just give up…it’s not worth physical harm to myself. I tried my hardest and wasted a year of my life reaching out. Some people are beyond help. I’ll just let it go, forget about it, move on. That’s what I’ll do, whatever happens is beyond my control anyway. Let it be and forget…


I hate life. I don’t know if “hate” is the right word, but it’s good enough. My mind’s become so de-constructed over the past few months that every little thing bothers me. If someone looks at me the wrong way, anything. It just drives me crazy. My issues are getting the best of me, my family despises me. I don’t understand why, I tried so hard and didn’t complain, I kept it all in. Why? I don’t understand. People in school just think I’m insane, maybe I am after all. Could I have been wrong all along? Maybe I truly was crazy, I don’t know. Maybe they were right and I need help…help. No, I’m too proud for that, I’ll fix this my own way, somehow. I’ll manage it, I will. Crazy, it can’t be. How could I live in deceit for so long? It’s not possible. I’ve acquired a new habit, shaking. Why am I telling you all this anyway? You could probably care less, right? I feel so empty, such a waste…


My life is very full now, no more worries about my counterpart. I remember my goal from time to time and simply laugh at my foolishness. Ignorance is bliss, I do wish the best for everybody but sometimes there’s nothing more you can do but hope. Oh well…all’s well that ends well, I suppose it’s all for the best anyway, My counterpart will learn someday and when that happen, I’ll be there to help. Until then, no more worries.


It’s over. All of it. My family, school, everything. It all came crashing down on top of me and nobody wants to help me because I’m mad. They can’t all be wrong, I am crazy. I have to let it go, let it end, here, now. Perhaps in another time and another place I’ll be better, perhaps. I’m afraid. No, scared to death. What an ironic statement, scared to death. It should be scared of death. Now is as good a time as any though. I suppose it’ll do, it’s not like there’s anything to hold me back…to the fickle go the world.


I’m dying. My counterpart precedes me, but I must follow because we are linked. My counterpart, my opposite sends me to my demise. Such a bright place to leave for such cold darkness. If only we all hadn’t been so blind, I could have stopped this…no, maybe it was meant to be. Some things can’t be prevented, no matter how awful. In a way I’m glad I guess, I don’t know. All of life is suffering, maybe this will lead to a brighter future. I have to go now, it’s been great. I only wish I could have had more time.


Now, consider.


Now I thought it was genius, absolutely amazing. But that’s only because I understood what she was saying and her purpose in saying it. They didn’t, or rather, couldn’t, understand. The story itself had to be included here so you could get a vague idea of where I was coming from, what they thought they knew. They thought that they had it figured out. And she knew exactly what it would take to send them packing, to show them just how ignorant they truly were. But it was amazing. Hilarious is a better word. Hilarious. Those poor doctors didn’t know what to make of it; they had her under all kinds of new tests after this one surfaced.

It’s a circus, a three-ring circus. Life, society, people and things. It’s all a circus. That’s how Darius and I view what was going on. It was really funny how everything was corrupt and the world was upside down and inside out but that’s life and how it’s always been and always will be. She and I had that concept down pat and the rest of the group understood it too, but that’s how it was. Darius, I love her sincerely with all that is in my heart and soul to possess in terms of emotion. She truly is a marvel though and it makes me proud to say that I know her. The story she wrote, I read it so many times that I know it almost word for word. She’s not a schizophrenic, far from it. I

would know this these and do tend to admit when and where they exist, contrary to popular belief. She was perfectly fine and sane. But they couldn’t accept the truth; they didn’t want to believe that it was just that simple. So they poked and probed and wasted time, effort and money, committing sin after sin, and could make no solid conclusions. Darius and I knew that would be the turnout eventually, but they just refused to accept it. They couldn’t believe that there was nothing for them to fix, they couldn’t save the soul, couldn’t be the hero. So they kept trying, and failing.

People are more likely to accept fiction because it is such; it’s got more juicy details. The truth is usually plain and boring, set in stone, unaffected by all else. It simply is and cannot be changed, influenced or altered. This sort of resistance annoys people, the fact that it is definite and therefore beyond change. Fiction is harder to believe, hence why they’re so quick to accept it. It doesn’t make sense, I know, but that’s just how it works, how it’s always worked and will continue to for the rest of time. So I leave you with all this to consider, I have some things of my own I’d like to take into consideration. Time heals all wounds, but when you’ve in love, all wounds heal themselves.

I went to see Darius as much as I was allowed, stealing every moment that was permitted; they had to force me out most of the time. I hated to leave her, to walk away and not have her at my side, it destroyed me, and yet I put myself through it day in and day out. We never said goodbye, we just said “until next time,” or similar statements, because you can never truly say goodbye to someone you love. Even when you part ways from this mortal world, you’re still together somehow. If not in body, than in soul. Love can never be destroyed or separated – only slightly detoured. Immortal.

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