July 2nd, 2012
So yesterday I wanted to kill myself, today I am writing my ass off and thinking that I am the shit and then some.
Does that make me bipolar?
I don’t know.
To clarify, though, I don’t really feel like I am the best thing to happen since Jesus; I was purposely exaggerating. I still feel shitty, especially about my social situation, but I’ve realized that I have to write through that. I can’t let that stop me. Maybe I can even channel some of it into my work.
But I’m still mad that I have some crappy friends, especially ones that will get a text from me saying “I feel like if I committed suicide no one would care”, and they RESPOND, so I know they’ve SEEN it, and then I go on with more of the same, and then they…DISAPPEAR UNTIL THE NEXT DAY, by which time I could well have been CORPSIFIED. (Do you like that word? I just made it up.) I mean, WTF? If anyone says “I feel like killing myself” to me and then DISAPPEARS, I’m calling them IMMEDIATELY! Or I’m going OVER there. And if I can’t get over there, I’m calling someone who can. I mean, it’s not like I say this shit every day, or say it lightly.
Whatever. I can’t control other people. I can only control me, right? And that’s who I’m trying to control now, me and Claude, we’re fighting up in here about control and he won yesterday but I’M WINNING TODAY, FUCKER.
But I still feel down. 🙁
But not suicidal down. Just kind of…sad down.
My aunt thinks I should go back out to work. Fuck to the no on that one. I am not going back to work with fucktards just so I can have a social life, because it would be a social life…with fucktards. (Although I do have to say, my last job had a lot of REALLY cool people; it was mainly my boss who made me miserable. But I would most likely not end up there, and it could be a place with a LOT of fucktards, because let me TELL you…they are OUT there. And they REPRODUCE.)
Then again, at least fucktards are PEOPLE, which is more than what I’ve got right now. Hmmmm….
But honestly, if I went back out to work, I would feel worse. Because I would feel like I gave up on myself and what I really really want to do and what I love doing, which is writing my ass off. So no, no can do, sorry. There are other writers out there, and there are people out there, and I can make new friends with people who get me. And I can deal with whatever is wrong with me through therapy and meds and meditation and prayer and exercise and a healthy social outlet (God please help me with that last one) and…I’ll be okay. For my kids, mostly, but a little bit for myself too. If I gave up on my writing, then I probably WOULD kill myself.
So I don’t know if feeling a little better today counts as bipolar. I don’t think so. And I’ll be really honest, it’s not like I WANT to be bi-polar. You know people who are actually HAPPY that they have something, not just because they can put a name to it but because it’s something to garner sympathy? Well, that’s not me. I mean, if I am, I want to know, so we can handle it and I can get treated. And I WILL tell people because talking helps ME, and it MIGHT help someone else to come out of the Depression Closet. But I just want to be sure that this “Generalized Depression” diagnosis is correct and that I’m doing all the things, from a medical standpoint, to deal with myself.
But, God, I REALLY hope not.
- The monstrosity of being alive. (cakeandmorphine.wordpress.com)
- New Crazy Meds (drinkleidownpassout.com)