Abnormalities in the Eyes of Society

(TW: SA, SH)

 I think about my disabilities and disorders sometimes

Whether it be late at night when the only sound I can hear is the running of the fan or the snores of my partner

I reflect on them during the mid-morning rush to get ready

and I wonder if I can ever get better. 

I think about being overstimulated by multiple conversations going on

and how when music is a little too loud I tend to pick at my hands, 

or scratch at my scalp until it bleeds.

At least I do not mutilate my body in the ways I used to when I did not know how to respond to the things that overstimulate my brain.

I called my mother the other day and told her I had not done dishes in over a month, 

and how my partner could not keep up with them.

I told her it was hard to shower and brush my teeth because depression exhausts me to the point where getting out of bed is the hardest chore of the day. 

She said she had never experienced depression like that. 

I am torn apart because of a job interview I recently had, where I mentioned my anxiety, my depression, and my bipolar disorder,

 and the two women in front of me sighed before one of them said that is all they needed from me and that they would be in touch. 

I ponder about my sexual orientation, 

and how a woman from my church who is bisexual told me stories of women and men 'changing' their sexuality who now have a significant other of the opposite sex and have children. 

She speaks about a woman not loving her husband romantically,

and how although she is happy she feels as though she cannot speak to members of her same-sex because of her attraction. 

I ponder that same loneliness is the same one I feel when I am rudely awakened by my alarm when all my body wants to do is shut down during an episode.

I think of the queer community and the disabled community. 

How we are outcasts because of things we cannot control. 

I remember how society views these 'abnormalities' as if they are unable to be loved, appreciated, and understood. 

and I think of how sad society must be...

to outcast those who are different because of their bodies and minds not being able to work. 

Or their sexual identity that they have no control over. 

I wonder if it will ever change. 

Or if it even should. 

I question if my sexuality stems from the assault of my body right days after my sixteenth birthday.

Or if maybe it happened during the same occurrence with a different man at the age of seventeen.

Or yet again, if it was because of the 'friend' that fed me shots like they were the elixir of life until I could not remember him groping me until I felt pain coursing through the entirety of my body.

I thought it was in my head until I drove his roommate to his job at Arby's the next morning,

and he asked me if I remembered anything.

I shiver when I remember responding, knowing he watched and did nothing.

In reality, I know I was five when I knew I was not only attracted to men, 

but I still question if those moments in time had something to do with it.

I tell myself others have it worse than me because I finally finished the dishes yesterday afternoon,

 neglecting my homework during a manic episode because I could not focus. 

But none of us experience mental illness the same. 

None of us experience our sexuality the same. 

and none of us should be abused, abandoned, misunderstood because we all experience our lives differently. 

I wonder if it will ever change.

Or if it even should.