Your Bespoke Psychopath

I was relieved to find out I had bipolar disorder.  I’d known for a few years, but I was relieved finally someone was going to listen to me and give me the proper treatment.

Was I happy I had bipolar disorder?  It might have seemed that way to a lot of people.  I was more outgoing, willing to do things, more cooperative.  But relief is different than acceptance.  

I can’t accept the fact that there’s a stigma attached to the phrase “mental illness”.  I can’t make it go away.  Whenever anybody finds out I’m bipolar, all I can think of is that they think I’m crazy.

Most of the time, I’m fine.

But at my low points, like tonight…I agree.

It seems like no matter where I go, I’m going to be unhappy.

And on nights like these, I doubt I’ll ever graduate from college.

I don’t know what I can do with my life.

I can’t hope to remotely function in the real world.  The reason I got through high school was because there were rules and restrictions on what I could do.  And here…there’s no one to watch me and make sure I’m staying sane.  No one to tell me that it’s going to all work out.  That I can make it through the year.

I’ve always been afraid of being abandoned by the people I care about the most.  And one little action or accident can crush me.  Throw me down into that pit that’s too hard for me to climb out of.

I’m digging myself a deeper and deeper hole every day.

And there’s nothing that can stop it.

I’m insecure
Messed up

Fucked up
Impatient
Neurotic and
Extremely emotional.

Nope.  You’ve never hit me with a low blow.  I have NO right to bring up the exact same thing you were throwing at me.  Different people, same story.

I put up with a lot.  And I’m done.

You sold the soul that
Cradled us from the world we were under
Waste machines and politics
Buried the things that we need to discover

Say you will understand
These circumstances
Say you will hold my hand
And we’ll take our chances

I can’t say when it’s all gonna change yeah 
I can’t say when it’s all gonna break yeah
Turn me over
Keep turning me around again
Around again
My four leaf clover
Has fallen on the ground again
The ground again

You paved the road that
Traveled us from the roof we were under
Ashes had blown away
Long before I could dream of another

Say you will understand
These circumstances
Say you will hold my hand
And we’ll take our chances

I can’t say when it’s all gonna change yeah 
I can’t say when it’s all gonna break yeah
Turn me over
Keep turning me around again
Around again
My four leaf clover
Has fallen on the ground again
The ground again

Will you be yourself
When you’re not alone
Will you be yourself
And find your own way home

Turn me over
Keep turning me around again
Around again
My four leaf clover
Has fallen on the ground again
The ground again

Turn me over
Turn me around
Turn me over
Turn me around
Four leaf clover
Has fallen to the ground
The ground, the ground again

I’ve decided that I really just don’t care anymore.

Getting your cartilage pierced hurts a LOT worse than getting your lip pierced.

Didn’t hurt at all with my lip; with my cartilage, I wanted to scream the whole time.

I’m all moved into my dorm.  I was definitely ready to leave.  Now I get to sit through orientation all day today…joy.  Not looking forward to it.  But hey, the first presentation is called “Sex and Excess: Surviving the Party”.  Oh, and I can play condom bingo on Thursday.  WTF.

It’s 1:16 in the morning.

I am starving.  My meds make me hungry AND I can’t sleep because of them.  

I’m so happy my psychiatrist upped my dosage and stuck me on yet ANOTHER pill.

Now I can see why people go off meds.

I’m gonna end up gaining the freshman 50 if this keeps up.

And how does that make me feel?

Really pissed off.

I feel like I’m high the majority of the time.  Even my meds don’t stop that.

I’ve only been high high once.

On nail polish remover.

I was in 8th grade.  I was chilling at my friend’s house when we found a pile of magazines that had Hilary Duff in them.  We decided it would be a good idea to burn them.  We went outside her apartment and put them on the ground.  Gabby lit them with a lighter, and we watched as they started to burn.  Then I thought, “Well, this probably isn’t a good idea.”  So I attempted to put it out.

With the nail polish remover.

Apparently, that doesn’t work.

I ended up stomping on the magazines to get them to go out.

And melted my favorite pair of shoes.

>.<