You don't belong in this category

I never used to feel alive. I knew what alive was. I recognized the signs of a person who was alive and I knew that they could do something I couldn't. They could feel. They could feel the love and the pain. Feel the sun and the sky and the noise. They could take it all in and make it into something that I tried to replicate but I couldn't. Couldn't get the output because the equation was off. Like the cogs and the wheels inside of me got stuck on the bits and pieces of dark and different that were permanently floating within me. I was told that depression makes you tired. That it is like a magic little pill that makes you sleep away your life and I got so excited. I waited for that sleep to come and I waited for that sleep to numb the sadness and I waited. I waited for the sleep that never came. I waited as I laid in bed and in my head I imagined letting out the loudest scream the world had ever heard. A scream that would wake the world. A scream that would wake the world and make them feel what I felt and know what I knew. And how incapable was I, what a depressing thought to think that I couldn't even get depression right. I thought I was bipolar because some moments I felt so high. I felt so high that I wanted to run 50 miles and run up 50 flights of stairs. But in 50 minutes I would want to jump off the building I had just wanted to climb. I thought I was bipolar but they told me I couldn't be. Because if you don't cycle correctly, don't follow patterns x, y, and z, then it can't be. You don't belong in this category. Don't belong in this category. What a funny way to phrase the news. How funny a world it is that a kid who doesn't fit the definition of normal can search and find that they don't even fit the mold for an abnormal person. I wanted an ending to this story, but just like everything in life, you can't always have what you want. I wrote this in past tense. I wrote this in past tense so the story can't be finished until it is past tense.