I don’t really expect people to read my blogs or follow me. I am trying to get better, and by ‘get better’ I mean be happier. I don’t expect to be happy all the time, but I would like to feel better about myself and life in general. Too often I feel shitty about everything. Other times…well, you might never know how far down I go if you see me up.
Currently I’m undiagnosed. Doctors have noticed the depression (got so bad you’d have to be blind not to see it) but not the mania. I’ve been reluctant to talk about the mania. I’m embarrassed by what goes on in my head during those times. I LOVE it; don’t get me wrong. If I had to choose I’d choose mania over depression every single time. I can get a lot done during manic periods. A LOT. I’ve got loads of energy, everything is up, up, up. But I’ve caught myself too often in overblown fantasies; I don’t just see myself as successful, I see myself changing the world or being the absolute best at whatever project I’m worked up about. Fantasies about controlling the world, manipulating the elements, doing magic – whatever. I realize they’re not based in reality even when they’re happening to me, but there’s an addictive quality about what goes on during these flights of fancy; a self confidence I lack so often that when it hits me it’s like mainlining.
I guess these letters are kind of my confessional. My goal is honesty in each and every letter; honesty about how I feel (good and bad) and how I’m perceiving the world. My hope is that if I can siphon the poison out me line by line I’ll be able to finally let things go. My expectation is…nothing. I expect nothing out of this, and maybe that’s the best place to start.
What da fuck’s your current age: 50 and counting
What da fuck do you do: artist, social parasite
What da fuck is wrong wit ya: chronic rheumatoid arthritis, chronic tendonitis, psoriasis, pustular psoriasis. Probable: bipolar, chronic PTSD, anxiety disorder. Survivor of 2 narcissistic abusers.
Where da fuck are ya: currently, Netherlands
Why da fuck aren’t you writing letters anymore? ’cause
What’s wit da fucking attitude? that’s me
Got anything else the fuck to say? not right now