When you are left alone all day with nothing but tv voices and your own Bipolar Depression it’s like a horror movie. One where you are trapped in a maze, running in circles, no way out.
If you had someone to talk to, you couldn’t really tell them anything because they would want to put you in the hospital. How sometimes just knowing what people think of you is enough to make you quit. You’re so tired from trying to remember who you are supposed to pretend to be. You sometimes look at old scars and blue veins, watch the blood pulsing, and you don’t even realize you’re doing it. You’re scared there is just more darkness so you leave it alone.
You wait and wait for a something big to happen. It’s never going to. This is it. Crying on your couch, taking your meds, and talking to your dog. Every single fucking day for the rest of your life because you are paralyzed by fear and judgement and self hatred. I’m done.
