I hate it when people call me crazy; but not as much as when you tell me I’m not. The way you say; “awww you’re not crazy” and give me that look, like I’ve just called myself a murdering psychopath and shit in my pants. I hate the pity, like being mentally ill is the worst thing I could ever be. The fact is I am crazy, mental, deranged, unhinged, nutty, mad, barmy, unstable, disturbed... whatever else you want to call it, and playing pretend won’t change that. My friends, my real friends I mean, they all know that I’m crazy and we’re all quite derogatory about it, because words only have meaning if you let them, but actions speak far louder than words, and those looks make me want to hate you. Your eyes betray your ignorance and your words overflow with stagnant sympathy, being Bipolar is a life sentence, not a death sentence. I’m not dying, so hold back your commiserations; I’m fighting to stay alive, so cast those shallow eyes across some articles, enlighten yourself and try a little understanding. And if you can't manage that? Say goodbye because you have no place in my life.
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AuthorHey, so I'm Khaos! I'm a twenty-something would be teenager with a compulsion for writing, doodling, music and general silliness. Oh and I have Bipolar, PTSD and mild OCD. This is my blog of rambling, rants and riots as I stumble through life with mental illness. I'm not very politically correct, I swear too much and I have all the tact of a brick to the face. Enjoy!
BlogsALL I'LL EVER BE
ASK ME I WONT SAY NO, HOW COULD I? ASK ME THE CAMPAIGN ASK ME THE QUESTIONS BETRAYED [Poem] BIPOLAR BASICS CHRISTMAS CRASH AND BURN DEATH [Poem] FROM THE START GOODBYE [Poem] I'M STILL AWAKE KIZZIE VS STIGMA LIES FOR THE LIARS LIFE, LOVE AND ARCHIVING LITTLE MISS SINGLE LOST [Poem] MISERY LOVES COMPANY MISSING MANIA THE DRAMA OF SHOPPING THE OBSESSION THOSE LYING EYES UNCOMFORTABLY NUMB UNLOVEABLE WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE |