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Pretty for a Psycho

I currently am a 29 year old female living in Jacksonville, Fl. I have bipolar disorder, degrees of ptsd and I’m about to start a new job Tuesday.

 A ‘big girl job’ as I’ve put it. 

One with benefits, full time hours and will afford me a better life than the one I’ve built on part time minimum wage jobs that make it impossible to afford insurance. 

So why this tug? Why this building tumult in my core that threatens to explode and ruin everything? 

Well my friends, that is what being a self loathing, self sabotaging psycho is all about. Something starts as a splinter and works its way down and festers. 

Now when I use that term ‘psycho’ I use it as a means of reclaiming it. I have been called that to some degree by almost every person that I’ve let get close for the last half of my life. 

So if you can’t beat em. 

Leaving the job I’m currently at is bittersweet. It was easy and relaxed, but I couldn’t live on what they pay me, not to mention there are no benefits so when you get sick, you miss out on that money and you succumb to ramen eating poverty and very rarely can make up the time. Oh and then there’s affording medication without insurance, but that’s another story for another time.

Fear of the unknown is what drives this little itch, the one I can’t reach. I don’t know what’s to come, but I know I need it to work out. I just have to rebel against every fiber of my being that’s screaming ‘you’re gonna fail‘. 

Shouldn’t be too terribly hard.

Oh the yesterdays..

I had a very angry day yesterday. It started with disappointing a dear friend because I’d double booked my evening and needed to go to my dad’s for dinner (didn’t even end up going).

It was very slow at work and I had no sales. In the meantime, several of my friends text me and do something or another to fuel that raging fire within me that threatens to flow out of my eyes in hot salty betrayals. 

Like how I assume most people are, I’m over sensitive, over stimulated, and over critical when I’m like this. I’m tired, worn out and have weakening resolve to keep my ‘human’ mask on. Instead I want to bite the faces off of anyone that comes at me with something I can even slightly distort into hurting me. 

I don’t think this is a good thing and I know it’s the bipolar rage bubbling up from missing one night’s worth of medication. It’s such a delicate balance and I still haven’t reached that sweet spot of perfect nirvana that happens when my chemicals level out and synapses fire correctly. 

I walk on sunshine, I have logical conversations with myself and can cope, I’m charismatic and fun to be around, I have the ability to feel positive feelings without cynicism.. and then there’s this prickly side that peeks through when I’ve not been diligent with my meds. Even for one day or night, it sets me back days until I can find a glimmer of positivity again.

Then I have to spend the day comforting those that I hurt in my blind rage and explaining that I have no explanation worthy of what I’ve said to them. Some give advice (silly), some say they forgive me and they’re always here for me. I don’t know how to react to that. I do awful things to people in these rages, why be here for me? 

Save yourself you fool!