I can't write blog while listening to music. I will hear something beautiful and can't help but steal it and want it to be my own. As per lastnights blog. I'm glad to say my dose today had made me feel that warm glow. My emotions gone just like the winter. I can handel to read that perfect email today, and not want to claim the authour as my own. I handed over all my pshycotropic drugs to mother who is organizing them and will be making sure I take them everyday. My councler at the Methadone clinic is now making me bring my medication in every morning when I come to dose, and having me take them infront of the nurse before she doles out my Methadone juice.
I have to tell someone about a secret I've been keeping. Not just from the people who read my blog, but my family and few friends as well. Usually I pour out everything about myself onto this blog and let you all read and judge. As if I were so interesting that you would want to know even the most mundane details of my life. Which does make me way to full of myself.
I've made no secret that I'm Bi Polar, but I also have a diagnosis that I've kept to myself. Mainly because I'm embarrassed of it. I'm just going to come out with it. I'm Bi Polar with delusional thinking. I let my imagination blur with reality, and will end up with a delusion. For example, when I was in jail I thought the president was trying to communicate with me thru the T.V., and I would make the other girls watch the same channel everyday and I would have to turn the volume up to a certain number because that was the frequency that the President would contact me on. He would order me to watch and listen to what the guards said and did whenever I could. It got so bad one night, I was in such a desperate way. I followed a guard out of the cell block, he didn't notice me behind him at first. As soon as he did noticed me I became very agitated and had be put in four point restraints, and sedated with Haldol. That was my most recent delusion. I haven't had one since.
Also, I'm so uncomfortable with who I am, its easier for me to slip into a character. I would have probably made a great method actor, but unfortunately I haven't the looks nor the body to get into film. Since I'm poor I'm considered crazy, if I were rich I'd be eccentric.
When some anonymous person tells me to kill myself, as happened in my last post, I feel deeply hurt. How could someone who knows what I think about want me to die? Thank God that my methadone dose made me numb today because had I been feeling when I read that comment I probably would have let it keep me from blogging today. Someone, actually alot of anonymous people tell me they wish I would just get it over with and kill myself already, and I just don't understand why they would want me to be dead. To not exist any more. I can't think of any good reason other than what I've written has horribly offended them or bored them to death.
Now you know my dark secret. I've put myself out there by writing this, and every comment bad or good I deserve. No comment I deserve more. Seriously, there is nothing the least bit interesting about me that one should feel the need to comment about it. Don't get me wrong I love comments, but I don't feel I deserve them. I don't think I deserve as many readers as I have.
My delusions are rare, and have only happened four times since I was twenty. Still its the main reason I was given SSI so easily. The first time I summit ed an application they gave it to me. The delusional thinking along with the bi polar that no doctor has found the correct meds that keep me from cycling completely. I'm always cycling...even now.
So there, you know it all. I'm bat shit crazy.