Oct 15, 2005

I have just been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder.

Diagnosed by me.

It certainly explains the "fuck me and fuck everything" phases I have been encountering much more frequently as of late. I don't believe it's a function of school, or a function of anything but living and breathing in this world. Though, when I hit the severe lows, I feel so terrible the ensuing thoughts of what I would like to do myself both frighten and intrigue me. I just can't help but wonder why the condition seems to be worsening as the days go by. Last night, I experienced the intense high of romping about an open pasture on the mountain beneath the moonlight, then a few hours later walked around outside in the yard feeling horribly melancholy and finding nothing to attribute it to, wanting to beat the moon to a powdery pulp and choke on the poison oozing from its innards.

I'm not about to get medicated, though. I still don't believe in it. I think it would do more harm than good. Maybe it wouldn't. What the hell do I know?

Now it's time to go "work." Right now, I wish someone would beat me within inches of my life, then laugh and deliver the final blow. It should be interesting to see how I feel later!

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