Im Probably Going To Kill Myself, None Of This Matters

I’m probably going to kill myself, none of this matters

Being bipolar be like *triggers manic episode* *accused of faking* *surfeit of withdrawal symptoms when skipping meds* *feeling humiliated in the aftermath of all the stupid shit you’ve done in public* *sleeping for 15+ hours straight when depressed* *threats from everyone to be hospitalized*

BPD has always been more deadly than COVID-19, and it continues to be more deadly.

Both are chemical. One is a temporary infection (COVID-19); One is permanent mutation (BPD/C-PTSD).

there’s love in long messages. in late night phone calls. love when laughs echo around us. when we dance. there’s love woven into your “i saw this and thought of you” or “i can give you the space you need” or “i am here”. there’s love in your eyes when you understand. and in your smile when you don’t but still try to. it’s in the food we share. flowing through the tips of our fingers when we touch. and intertwining when our thoughts flow together. there’s love captured in our photographs and even better, in our memories. days pass and there is love. always love, still.

Ahhh she gave me angel hair tytyty

In my tragic heart, there’s nothing more disgusting than this depression