Thursday

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I'm a mental midget.

This whole time, both you and I have both been under false pretenses my friends.

So much is made of intellect and wit, yet they have no real function in life.

They are character traits, things that we all have different amounts of, or for an unfortunate few, none at all.

I can't even fucking think straight.

When you find out you're bi-polar, you realize you had NO idea what that shit really meant.

On top of that, having to tell people that you're the bad iRobot is unbelievably embarrassing.

Especially the people who love you and have known you for a while, as they recall things that have happened and begin their justification process instantly.

"itallmakessensenow" "sothatswhy" "itsokthough" "thisisnttheenditsthebeginning"

And then, you have to admit to them that you know you're fucked up in the head now, and you're now also aware that you were fucked up in the head then too, but you didn't know that then.

And even though you know now, you don't feel like apologizing for EVERYTHING is right, because if it felt natural at the time, then surely that was you at least SOME of the time and not some fucked up in the head version of you.

The small amount of pride I have left won't let me play the One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest card to sweep all the foul shit I've ever done under this rug, even though that's what I'm being encouraged to do, even by the professionals.

Which is CRAZY, because if you know me, then you know I would LOVE an easy way to get out of anything, especially if I can divert some of the blame away from me just being a fucked up individual.

So I understand why they said I have manic depression too.

How could that shit not depress you until you're maniacal?

LOL

That's some high shit, I bet that's not even really what it means.

But if I don't get high, guess what?

...

I'm motherfucking maniacal.

Ask her.

I digress though...

Is this really what's wrong me really?

Because until somebody told me I was affected by it, I thought it was nonsense.

Now I'm supposed to embrace this fully, and if I don't, I might not get better?

This is like a public fistfight with an imaginary friend.

And the bruises are getting much harder to hide.

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