One time too many… Of Pride, Glory and Defeat

She told me “Only once in my life I have been proud of you… And it seems to me that it was one time too many.” I think she is right. I have had my moment of glory. I have had it, that moment in which everything is not just sustainable, but really good. A moment of complete happiness… I wore the perfect dress and presented the graduation ceremony of high school. I had my first pair of 15 cm heels on my feet and I was graduating best of my year, with the highest score in mathematics and physics. And it was good. It was one of the only moments in my life reality was better than any fantasy I could possibly indulge in. And my parents were so proud… And I was proud, I was proud of myself.

My parents were never pushy. They believed in character, backbone, in working your hardest. They didn’t tell me what to do… They simply expected me to give my best, no matter what I wanted, no matter what I was doing. And when I stood there on that stage, getting my diploma of Mathematics-Science (8h of math) after climbing up from the depths of Human Sciences (3h of math and little perspective on the future) without anyone’s help but my own… They were proud because I was strong. Not because I had good grades, but because I was a fighter.

Now… They are disappointed. Not because I failed my education… but because I gave up. Because I’m a quitter. Because I don’t have the backbone to fight anymore. In my study, in my life,… in everything. I am a failure. They told me so. I am a failure because I don’t fight. Because I don’t give my very best to defeat my mental illness. Because I don’t care about them. Because reality doesn’t faze me anymore.

I don’t care about them. But the fact I don’t care, the knowledge I couldn’t care less… somehow makes me sad. I don’t understand it…

Chaos and Destruction, QP

About quantumphysica

My name is QuantumPhysica The Insane, but you can call me QP. I am insane, admitted to a mental hospital in Belgium, and waiting for a decent diagnosis at the moment. Once I was a physics student with goals in life and what more; now I'm simply the patient of Room 93. Ever wondered what life is like in the psychiatric ward? I'll tell you everything you ever wanted to know... I am... particularly twitchy of personality. But I also am genuinely interested in everything. There is nothing that doesn't interest me, really. Everything, from quantum computers to fashion and cars to traveling... I also give advice. On anything. No taboos whatsoever. And I make lists of things...
This entry was posted in Insanity and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to One time too many… Of Pride, Glory and Defeat

  1. Luckily you have time! All of that can be fixed. Things are not usually a one shot kind of deal!

    • I hope so… The way she speaks to me, about how I destroyed her life and how she will never ever forgive me for that sounds quite irremediable to me…

      • She’s deciding to feel that way though and you can’t control that. You need to make yourself happy and if people can’t be happy that you’re happy then you know who’s going to be there for you.

  2. waywardweed says:

    If it makes you sad that you “couldn’t care less,” maybe you do care after all, and I hope you and your family will be able to heal. Does your family know about mental illness? Have they tried to educate themselves? At the very least, they should give NAMI a try. It’s been a blessing to me coming from both the consumer and family angle, but it certainly doesn’t help to hear about that cliched bootstrap crap.

    • My family, especially my mother, read tons and tons of books about mental illnesses… and she came to the conclusion that she never did anything wrong with me so that it’s completely my fault and that I am wrecking her life with my “mad nonsense”.

  3. These are not mental illness issues, they’re human ones. You, like so many, are just afraid:

    • The fact I have issues with my parents “an sich” is not directly related to my mental illness…
      Fear… Perhaps I am afraid, indeed. But I don’t think I am afraid of being something better… I am afraid of never being something better. Of never being something in general… The poem is nice… I like it…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s