Pull The Covers Up And Leave Me Alone


I’m a pretty dark person. I have a wicked sense of humor and I’ll say anything goofy to make someone laugh, but when it’s my life, there isn’t a lot I perceive as humorous. I’m not the kind of person who laughs at someone else’s pain or who enjoys hearing about someone’s breakups, divorces, illnesses, a death, etc. Laughing at other people’s pain is evil, in my eyes. When someone mentioned losing their Mom last week, I sat on my couch and cried. I’d already endured a rough week and hearing the words “My Mom passed away, but she’s at peace.” made me ill. I felt SO bad for this person. I was relieved that they had support from a spouse, friends, and family. That made me feel better for them, despite the fact that losing a parent at any age is one of the worst things one can go through. I should know; I’ve already lost both of mine. I’d give a lot to have even just one of them back. I spend every day of my life feeling like an absolute orphan.

I am good at listening to others and giving exceptional advice, but I’m not very good at listening to myself in an advisory capacity. The last thing I want to hear is the sound of my own voice. I spend a lot of time trying to shut the inside of my head up. I don’t do drugs, so that means I pull the covers around me (usually because I’m cold) and close my eyes. After a few minutes, kitten comes to check on me and she’ll cuddle in, which always makes me feel cared for. She’ll look at me with such loving green eyes and I know that she is conveying her concern for me. “Why are you sad, Mama? Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you. ” And she doesn’t leave my side until I leave the room. She is the epitome of loyal, and it is gratifying to see so much love from such a little person.

Cat also checks on me. These last few weeks she has been very observant of my unhappiness and has spent a lot of time watching me, cuddling with me, sitting on my lap at times, and looking for me. If I leave a room, she’ll trot after me to make sure I’m okay. She stares at me with her deeply knowing little face. I can almost hear her thinking “Mommy’s not okay. I always hear her say ‘I’m not okay.’, why doesn’t anyone listen to her?” I don’t know.


I’ve been so miserable that I’ve struggled emotionally in deep, dark places. Very few people have noticed and even fewer have shown me that they care. That’s okay, because it only proves what I already know; Most people live on their own fucking planet and aren’t aware that other people exist. Good for them, but please, stay the hell out of my lane or I will mow you down for shits and giggles. I have absolutely no tolerance for anyone who has their head that far up their own ass, though I am slightly impressed with their ability to physically aim so high. Since their heads never come out, there is no need to stock up on Listerine for the “great hose down of 2015”. I’ve decided to ignore assholes, douchebags, and vicious souls for the foreseeable future. I don’t care who the person is any more, I don’t need the stupidity and heartlessness.

Oftentimes people forget that all forms of depression can strike them down at any given moment. They can be the happiest person in the happiest place, and suddenly feel as though there are no words for their internal pain. Lying about it, pretending it does not exist, and blowing off the pain of others to make yourself seem stronger doesn’t make you better, it makes you afraid of being stigmatized. It’s 2015. Get the antiquated thinking out of your head and stop being an asshole to yourself, and others. It takes strength to treat a chemical imbalance. It takes strength to talk about it. You should be ashamed if you’re lying about it and hiding it. You should be even more ashamed if you’ve hurt friends that suffer because you can’t handle the fact that they’re stronger than you are. Yelling at someone who is suffering is not helpful. Screaming at them is even less helpful. You either want to help someone because you genuinely love and care about them or you scream because you lack proper communication skills.

I will yell when I’m frustrated, I will tell someone to back off or leave me alone when I am frustrated and need space, but the only person I abuse is myself.

I never know with any certainty if I will emerge from these dark places. Medication isn’t an option for me. I wait for new drugs to be released every few years to see if something new will be the answer. And by new, I mean NEW, I do not mean reformulated with a new name, which is what most pharmaceutical companies do when a major money-making drug is about to go generic. They will re-release it under a new name, having slightly tweaked it. If you’re not proactive in researching these drugs, you will spend years taking the same fucking crap, experiencing the same horrible side effects, wondering why you never feel better.

I am the exception, not the rule. Many people do find medication that works after some trial and error, even if only for short periods of time. I am chemically sensitive and I have been written off as “treatment-resistant”, which means that my brain doesn’t respond to all sorts of crazy chemical cocktails. No drug has ever worked for me on a long-term basis. Every time I “go dark”, it is up to me, and me alone, to try to pull myself out of the deep, dark hole before things get worse. I’m really tired of everyone’s opinions in regard to that. When you’re hurting, you want to be understood. You don’t want to hear hypocrisy or “That’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” Um, NO. I will have this for the rest of my life. That my friends, is fucking permanent.

I will never be a perfect, blooming flower for anyone. I wish people understood that depression does not diminish who I am, it does not detract from what I bring to the table. It does not make me less talented, less intelligent, or less anything. If anything, it makes me the more interesting person in the room with a little more vibrancy at times because I hold a lot back daily. I don’t shine all of the time, but when I do, I highly suggest wearing sunglasses.

Here’s hoping I will soon shine again.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.




If you’ve excommunicated, dismissed, rejected, “broken up”, “divorced”, or tossed a person from your life, no matter who that person may be, then I see absolutely NO reason in hell for you to troll their Facebook page, Twitter account, Instagram, Pinterest, website, blog, or any other form of social media looking for updates or insight as to how their life is without you in it. In fact, I find the behavior utterly pathetic. Why am I mentioning this? Because I’ve got a few trolls and I can’t stand the hypocrisy.

If you don’t want me in your life, that’s fine. Don’t let the door hit you where the Good Lord split you, but don’t think I don’t know when you’re reading my work. I have tracking software and I know your IP address. Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling?!

When I let someone go from my life, that’s it. Done means DONE. It doesn’t mean I check in on them via social media, it means I’m DONE. I will always keep what they’ve told me private because that’s how I roll, I will not discuss them by name to anyone, but do I feel the need to cyber stalk them? No. I mourn the loss of the relationship and I move forward. I was fine before you and I will be fine after you. Eventually I might even forget their name (Okay, that’s not true. Their name goes on a list to send to my Bolverk. Anyone who understands that reference gets ten points.), but I stand firm in my decision. Some people are meant to pass through your life and show you things, they’re not meant to be a permanent staple. Live and let live.

I find it disturbing when people, even in a minor way, feel the need to troll another person’s life. When someone treats me like shit and then disappears, I know it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with their own shortcomings and issues. I don’t see the point in a person like that continuing to read my work. What the hell are you expecting to find? Because if you’d like your name, address, phone/cell number, and/or Social Security Number listed on my header, I have news for you: No one is important enough for me to be so bothered. I have a life. It’s not the life of Jennifer Lopez or Bill Gates, but it is still a life and I do not feel the need to be vengeful because you’re deranged. Once again: Life was fine before you and it’s moving along at a steady pace without you. Unlike your imagination, the world does not revolve around you or your role, or lack thereof, in my life.

I respect and value my friends/friendships. I hold them in very high regard. If you blow the opportunity to be a part of that, it’s 100% on you. I let it fly because you cannot keep friends who don’t want to be kept and you cannot force people into friendships when they have ulterior motives or they come into a friendship with trust issues stemming from the past. I can only be myself. Loyal, present, and real. I am not going to change to make other people more comfortable. I don’t need to put myself in a small box because a few people can’t handle the fact that I am a strong personality who won’t eat shit politely with a knife and fork.

You either want me in your life or you don’t. I let you make your own decisions, and then I decide if I value you enough to allow you to return. If you don’t want me in your life, but you’re entertained by my pain, stop fucking trolling places you have no business being. That’s not “being a good person”, that’s being a hypocrite. May God explain the difference to you because you clearly have the common sense of a beach ball.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.