Feel free to reblog personal posts. Apparently people get offended by that.
This blog is intended for personal use. I have the spent the past two years essentially developing a mental illness. In those two measly years, I have had two inpatient hospitalizations plus two more outpatient ones. I've unburied childhood sexual abuse and as a result, been made a monster in the eyes of my family. I have been armed with an arsenal medications and have been branded with Bipolar I Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder.
Tumblr critics and therapists alike say that we may over identify with our disorders. They warn us to not let them define us. However, mental illness does become part of our definition. While I do not let it limit me, it is a part of my identity. It shapes the way I view inequality. It's given me a voice that I've never had before. I am a nurse and Bipolar Disorder does not hinder my profession. Instead, it helps me identify with the patients other nurses have already given up on.
Talking to friend on then phone shouldn’t make me feel so alone. It doesn’t make any sense. In fact, if any of you can shed some light on the situation, I’m all ears.
I may cut or take a handful of klonopin.
Hope is such a disgusting thing.
I won’t be able to handle it if I don’t get this job.
If I were a normal person, that sentence would just be frustrated response to my fruitless job search.
But I am not normal.
My emotions spiral miles in different directions.
I self destruct instantaneously.
I don’t know how to cope.
I am borderline and I can’t handle rejection.
If I don’t get the job, I honestly fear what I may do.
Tyra (to Denzel): you’re this guy with this amazing personality
….are you fucking kidding me?
1) he’s openly homophobic
2) he’s ignorantly misogynistic
3) he can’t even deflate his ego enough to listen to EVERYONE who is still telling him to slim down. He believes he knows everything
So fucking glad he’s gone.