The man walked into Fiddlers’ Club and immediately started chatting with the people near me. They responded as if he were a celebrity.

“Who is he?” I whispered to a boy sitting next to me.

“He’s Roy Zindel,“ the boy whispered back. “He has his own computer business,”

“Successful?”

“Of course. He knows all about computers.”

I frowned, wondering why my friends thought that speaking to Roy was such an honor. Then I remembered that I was starting a computer business myself. I began to stand. My shy tendencies sat me right back down, but I firmly said no to them. I stumbled over a chair and caught his eyes. I gave him my card, and I asked him to call me.

“Maybe we can work together,” I said.

He looked me up and down. “Hardly,” he said. He turned on his heels and walked away.

I hung my head for weeks after that man left the Fiddler’s Club. I wondered if he had somehow picked up on the fact that I have been born with the bipolar complex. What could I have done to defend myself against him? What does it take to hold your head high?

Does it take compliments, honors, and awards? Does it take a life of respect? Does it take belonging somewhere, being welcomed into some place? Does it take a loving family?

Does it take a life free from poverty, from struggling for your livelihood? Does it take having a job you’re proud of? Or does it just take having enough money that no one ever hears you say, “I haven’t got the cash today,” enough money that you can wear clothes that are in style, enough money that you never have to be humiliated at free clinics manned by incompetent doctors, enough money that you can pursue your interests and your dreams?

Does it take a life free from people like the Fiddler’s Club man? As if that were possible!

How can you hold your head high when you feel as if you don’t deserve anything, as if you’re not as smart and not as capable as anyone else, as if the Fiddler’s Club man was right? How can you hold your head high when you feel like a kid desperately seeking parenting, a teen desperately seeking romance, and an incompetent desperately seeking approval, although you know full well that you are none of those things?

What do I do? I just take my meds and think positive thoughts. Maybe some day…

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