I’m bipolar. manic depressive. crazy.

Well, I’m not just bipolar, to be more specific, I am bipolar I with rapid cycling, OCD and acutely agoraphobic. I take a stupid amount of pills everyday, I pay a very nice woman every week to talk to me about the stupid shit I have done and I pay another very nice woman every month to write me prescriptions for drugs that have side effects like your eyes rolling back in your head and getting stuck, irreversible rashes, hair loss, weight gain, tremor and liver failure — those are just the funnest ones.

You may remember a time when I was a lot more fun than I am now. I only remember parts of those times because most of the time I was blacked out.

I abuse alcohol and drugs, I have put my family and friends through hell and yet people still want to judge me.

I’m not unemployed, I’m not on disability.  When I had a job in a “normal” work setting, my illness never made me miss a day. I pay my taxes, walk my dogs, enjoy shopping, and enjoy cooking. I don’t run down the street in my underwear flailing dirty needles, I don’t fake pregnancies to trap men and I don’t belong in an institution.

Mental illness is not something that can be helped but there are things that you can do to treat the symptoms, which is all I do.

So thats that, take from it what you will but be careful with your words, when I am lucid, they hurt.



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