if you romanticize a mental illness or say that you have bipolar disorder or OCD because you think they’re quirky personality traits there’s a 1000% chance that i hate you.
I find nothing fun about whatever it is that is chemically defunkd in my mind. I’ve finally after 26 hard, confuzing, Rapturous, and painful years. I’ve given up trying to identify it as having a description because it cant help me in any way. It can not slow my mind when all i desperately need is rest, that classification can’t wake me up when i’ve been asleep all day because i struggle to find anything worth getting up even though I hate doing nothing.
In no way is my situation severe. I would consider it moderate at its worst. I can still function for the most part. And I am thankful for the lack of severity, I am lucky enough to not be on a first name basis with any one in the psychotherapy field. I am grateful for every day I can cope with normal situations and not have any exuberant or uncontrolled reactions in public places. I count myself fortunate.
I will admit that I enjoy being myself, good and bad. I’m not trying to be quirky or neat because there is some sort of unexplained genetic whirlwind that grips my mind with the most terrible claws.
the most upsetting is how many times no one will believe you when you honestly and truly, graciously inform them you are crazy.
I’m fucking bonkers, loopy man. But thats alright, Richard Hammond agrees with me.
And he is pretty sure that every one else who is worth it is to.