bipolarrantings

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I have a hatecrush on Vani Hari (aka Food Babe). She’s a public health disaster and overall terrible person. I hate everything she stands for, but I also want to have consensual sex with her.

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Just to reiterate: Live your life, do what makes you happy, and leave other people the fuck alone.

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True story: This is why I decided to become promiscuous.

348) I fall in love too easily, become too attached to people. I fixate and daydream and eagerly seek out their attention, and I know it looks desperate and creepy, and it isn’t at all healthy. But if I give in and let those feelings consume me, I forget how much I hate myself. Adoring other people makes it so much easier.

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So apparently Chris Brown has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Do we really need this? We’re already stuck with Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen, among other violent monsters.

Our reputation will never improve…

So I’d just like to take this moment to speak on the behalf of the bipolar...

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Depression does not always mean Beautiful girls shattering at the wrists A glorified, heroic battle for your sanity Or mothers that never got the chance to say good-bye Sometimes depression means Not getting out of bed for three days Because your feet refuse to believe That they will not shatter upon impact with the floor Sometimes depression means That summoning the willpower To go downstairs and do the laundry Is the most impressive thing you accomplish that week Sometimes depression means Lying on the floor staring at the ceiling for hours Because you cannot convince your body That it is capable of movement Sometimes depression means Not being able to write for weeks Because the only words you have to offer the world Are trapped and drowning and I swear to God I’m trying Sometimes depression means That every single bone in your body aches But you have to keep going through the motions Because you are not allowed to call in to work depressed Sometimes depression means Ignoring every phone call for an entire month Because yes, they have the right number But you’re not the person they’re looking for, not anymore

by “Alexandra” Tilton, NH (Teen Ink: November 2013 Issue)

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But you know, she’s right. Every single day, each time I see her face, see her, it’s utterly precious.

Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore (via murakamistuff)

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Deadly anxiety!

You know the likely outcome but keep hoping for something different. But you'll never actually know if something different will happen unless it actually happens.

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I'm seriously considering attempting to induce mania right now.

I know it's a dumb idea but I'm feeling super depressed lately.

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I'm a complete failure. A failure at my job, a failure as an artist, a failure as a son, and a failure as a friend. I don't think I can leave my bed today.

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Hypersexuality + Not getting laid + desire to be monogamous = massive frustration

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>> Feeling stable the night before your psych visit.

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I'm sick of being single. This has nothing to do with bipolar disorder, I just felt like expressing that somewhere.

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They should let me call in "depressed" to work.

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It's been seven months since I've seen you. Wherever you are, I hope you're happy with your life and that you and your husband are getting along. I'm long since over you, but on quasi-unbearable days like these, you have no idea how much I just miss your smile and overall friendly personality. My new coworkers just aren't as delightful as you were. Maybe someday soon I'll meet someone who is. I just hope that's sooner than later.

Currently: depressed.

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Dear customers: if you come to my register today, I hate you. Don't worry, unless you make stupid complaints you probably have nothing to feel bad about, but if you don't have an in-store charge card and refuse to open one, you are worthless to me and I hope you get a sore on your tongue.

Current mood: depressed.

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Remind me not to take my meds next time I go dancing. Maybe I'll get hypomania and the courage to ask the cute girl I'm scoping out to dance with me.