can a girl get some credit in the real world?
the worst part of bipolar disorder for me i think has to be the minutes, hours, days or weeks that i have no idea how i feel. mixed state. i wanna get off my fat ass and be active but i can never make myself do it and i don’t know why. am i depressed? am i tired? am i just lazy? i don’t know.
i had to stop cleaning the whole house every single week because i needed to feel like it was being lived in. i am still stuck in this perpetual state of fighting to live, not just survive or be here. really live. real experiences, conversations etc etc so forth and so on.
trying to have a social life outside the damn laptop is like pulling teeth in one way or another. now that i stopped asking permission to have a life it seems the world stopped waiting for me to grow a spine and gave up on me. maybe they gave up on themselves and can’t get their head out of their computer either.
i thought the springtimeofmycrazy had started early but i’ve realized the past couple weeks it was just a ruse. has it now started? maybe it is just the energy boosting supplement making me feel a little manic?
i’m having one of those days, i know this. one of those days when everything is crystal clear and you can’t remember the last time someone really paid you a compliment. when all you can hear is the voice of being taunted with your favorite chocolate indulgence when that voice knows SO WELL that you hate being fat and desperately want to fit into all the great clothes they bought you because you are tired of wearing leggings and dresses and skirts and can a girl just wear a pair of pants that truly fit for once in 3 years!!!!!????? a girl like me can only do so much about her weight with food overflowing in the kitchen at all fucking times and heaven forbid we don’t have every version of every food group.
i hate food right now.
i want to live on water and saltines and stop thinking about the clothes that i may never fit into ever.
if you offer me anything but coffee…well or a smoke i guess…i just want you to know i will hate you for a hot minute. nothing personal against you, just the food. the evil food.
other things are bothering me but the dirty laundry goes to the basement not the laptop, right?