A few yrs ago whilst in the midst of some catty femle beef I looked up BIPOLAR becuz of how it was 'joked' about being had. When I found out it was a depression, I decided to stop saying "I'm bipolar" not wanting to accept/speak depression on myself/others. I refer to ppl's flip flop personality as 'sour patch kid' now instead.
I know what it's like to be depressed. I have had many a suicide thoughts. I once drank alcohol & took the few pills I had at my disposal hoping to die.
I cope by holding on to a fantasy that I will see my baby bro in heaven 1 day, long as I don't die from suicide. I occasionally drink/smoke/take medicines. I create fantasies in my head where things are different, I am happier. I don't dwell on my 'problems' nor do I talk about them. I have sex.
I don't want counseling anymore. It was a time I did, and no one took me seriously. I have survived this long, this way. I'm actually sharing this somewhere that people who "care about me" won't look. I just felt like writing my current thoughts. Not because of Robin Williams but because someone I know and love, has been diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and it's a secret that myself and a few others are to keep.
That's a burden for me. Keeping secrets. Locking things in, not sharing. It's the reason, I turn to "dangerous" escapes. Often keeping those kind of secrets; things 1 is unhappy about to just yourself, it becomes too much to carry.
But I'm alive and have no plans of leaving soon. So I guess that means I'm fine. Right now. In this moment. And that is good enough for me.
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