At certain times in my life, I feel like my mind tries to protect me from the complete reality of the horribleness of a situation.
I’ve been going through a pretty bad breakup and wrote this earlier from the point of view of the way that I would handle this situation when consumed by mania.
From the point of view of performing stand-up.
SCENE
Hi, I’m Ivy, I have a mood disorder and I was high when I thought this was a good idea.
At this point I’d like to say for legal reasons that this is comedy, not statements of fact – but partly based on true events.
There’s truth, exaggeration, and complete nonsense in an effort to make myself appear more interesting, entertaining and powerful.
Not, unlike having a conversation with a narcissist.
CONTINUE
I’ve recently left a country town where my husband continues to reside.
We’d been together for nearly 20 years.
He had been cheating on me the whole time and everybody knew.
I’ve only recently found out about this in the last few months.
And it’s the same story from different people.
He says there’s a conspiracy, everyone’s lying and where’s the evidence?
I asked him if he thinks that I’m like one of those people who doesn’t believe in climate change.
That has been convinced that all the scientists around the world conducted separate research, have the same findings, put a lot of time into the work that they did but it’s all a big lie to upset people.
I did not accept this and said “Why is everyone lying but you?”
He’s threatening to expose my family secrets and tell everyone how crazy I am.
Which is blackmail. So I’m exposing myself to take away his power.
He says I am going to end up like my dad – hospitalized. My father has schizophrenia and mental illness is hereditary.
My father murdered a family member in front of another family member and ended up in Arkane Asylum.
That’s the asylum from Batman where the Joker is imprisoned but when shit gets too much for me sometimes I like to pretend that I am living inside a film.
I am skipping my medication because I want to have my wits about me.
I was over-sedated at my former home. This is chemical restraint. At one point I could not operate a self serve check out.
I’d ask my husband why he didn’t come home last night, where had he been? what was on his phone?
He was able to convince me that I was paranoid, crazy and needed more sedation. This made me ask less questions, sleep a lot and be more compliant.
He also complained about me not wanting to have sex anymore. Why could this be?
Mystery solved.
These days when skipping my meds I fantasize about assembling a team of hot, fit, age-appropriate men of different races who will be able to come around and fuck me to sleep on required evenings because I have not been sedated.
Like ‘The Avengers’ but no white guys – I’ve recruited a Black Panther but that’s another story.
Quite early on in my breakup, I had a friend reach out and offer to help me move on. To be a person that I was familiar with, he even offered to go down on me for hours,
He was willing to take this bullet. Not all heroes wear capes.
I enjoyed our time together and expressed this sentiment in a public forum.
A type of public display of affection.
In doing so I did not intend to upset my ex, I wanted to please my lover.
I posted a meme that said ‘Italians do it better.’ And it’s not just about the intercourse, there’s the felatio which I believe is an Italian word.
My ex contacted me asking me to take it down. He said that it embarrassed him.
Embarrassed? You’re embarrassed? I have left that small town and refuse to return. You cheated on me for nearly twenty years and made a fool of me. But you are embarrassed. Do you have an irony deficiency?
He sent my lover a photo of personal medical records showing my mental health diagnosis and the fact that I have an STD.
Mental illness can be dangerous in some cases but for me I get hypersexual.
My illness has never caused me to hurt anyone unless I was wearing a latex bodysuit and he was into that.
There’s nothing funny about a cold sore on your labia – but blackmail – getting it all out there. And it’s not inflamed at the moment.
Still, I refuse to take the post down.
He reminded me that he had several sex tapes recorded when I was quite young stating “I’m going to make you famous.”
I’m trying to make myself famous. That’s why I’m here.
Kim Kardashian is famous for being famous, has a shit ton of money and it all leads back to a sex tape that does not even have a money shot.
Are you threatening me with a future where I am a multi-millionaire, have a private jet and am able to travel to Paris at any time to purchase my favorite pastries?
PAUSE
On a different day when I did medicate and tried to speak to my ex in a rational way he was able to convince me to remove the post, cut off my Italian friend and apologize and consider going back to the country.
It is my actions on this day that appear to be fucking insane and I recently wrapped my legs around the head of a homeless man and thought it was a good idea to pursue a career in telemarketing.