I’ve always had the dubious pleasure to miss out on the labels. Psychologists, doctors, experts by experience and just plain nosy people have always been happy to confirm I had some bits of crazy inside of me. A bit of borderline, they said, but not quite completely. A bit of bipolar disorder, they concluded, but not quite yet. “Nope, sorry, you are not nutty enough for any defined illness.” I was just another nothing, another healthy human. So I’ve had to deal with my mental difficulties like normal people do, without being able to comfortably hide behind a label of a mental illness or disorder. What a pity.

This ‘being not quite anything’ has always been the constant factor in my life.

Sure I was physically and mentally abused by Evil Ex. But I don’t feel it was as bad as you sometimes hear or read about. Although I lived in constant fear for four years, there were no lasting injuries, no life threatening situations, no police interventions. And apparently my friends and family felt the same, because instead of instantly wanting to lynch him once they found out, they didn’t even move a muscle.

Sure my parents fought a lot in front of me when I was young, but they did so only verbally. Sure I was ignored by my classmates and never welcomed in any of their peer groups, but I didn’t get pestered. Sure I always have to fight and struggle for everything, but I seem to always get what I want eventually.

Nevertheless, let’s not forget the positive sides of life! However, for the sunny parts of living the same constant factor applies.

Sure I’ve proofed my intelligence by finishing two universitary studies, but I did so without any straight A’s. Or, to rephrase what I said earlier: sure I always get whatever I want, but never without having to fight or struggle.

What on earth makes this a problem, you may think. Isn’t it quite pleasant, calm and easy to always happen to live safely and soundly somewhere in the secure middle of good and bad? Well, no, not really. Because of the ‘being not quite anything’ I don’t ever feel I’m allowed to complain or moan. Or to celebrate and be happy. Because why would you be proud of something that is only good, but not superb? And why would someone mourn over something that is sad, but not the end of the world?

To make it all more complex I tend to compensate this lack of external extremities with my own internal extreme mood shifts. What a blessing gift from evolution. If life isn’t interesting enough, spice it up with your own emotions!

But this is also the hard part. Because when I’m very happy or really sad, others easily think I overreact and exaggerate. This increases my beliefs that my life isn’t good or bad enough to be allowed to properly show extreme emotions for. I too feel very often that I am exaggerating. Others do much better in life, or are far more unlucky. Consequently, I quite often feel I have to cut back on showing my emotions, to avoid people thinking I’m childishly over-acting. It’s a negative spiral, a vicious circle and a self-fulfilling prophecy all in one, and I hate it!

I wonder what life would be like if I was to experience situations and things so extreme, that it would be impossible to overreact. What a delight it would be to once experience something that is either so good or so bad that everybody agrees and treats me accordingly: with genuine pity or admiration. I’d feel free, interesting, loved and finally rewarded for my efforts.

On the other hand, now I come to think of it, I doubt whether an extremely emotional girl like me could actually cope with true extremities in life. For somebody who has such severe mood swings as I do, I guess it’s somewhat a good thing to not find myself in extreme situations. Thinking of it that way, never being quite anything is rather a blessing. God’s ways of dealing cards are unfathomable.

Column published by Cecile on Monday, December 17th, 2007.

Similar columns

• To bi or not to bi?
• Vampire Love
• The gay men conspiracy
• The innocence of a child
• Brought up to bring one down?