Being manic depressive with a slight anxiety disorder can make the here and now or the future feel like a dark closet with a monster, neon green, gargling  and launching spit and shit at you. You can’t see him/her  but you definitely feel them. Just you and that Monster squeezed in that closet, staring and accidentally touching each other on occasion. I know some of my friends (none of my close ones, of course) … assume I’m over -exaggerating, lazy, or meek (which are  extremely common beliefs.) I almost think that the paranoia of what people think of my disorders out weigh the stress of my actual disorders. …. oh wait, there I go exaggeratingagain!!


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This blog is about writing (poetry in particular) and random thoughts in a nutshell

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