Talking to people from my past and telling them about my BP is incredibly annoying and critical at the same time.
I want the other person to really understand me. In reality, they only hear how I left my job for no reason whatsoever.
I just went into my old high school for some information on my class and I talked to my old guidance counselor. I told her the truth with what’s going on with me. She seemed sympathetic, but I still felt like I was exposed. Like I cut open a fresh healed wound.
Talking to her also made me realize that my reality is real and I can’t run from it. That I haven’t grown up at all. I’m still that young kid, missing out on life.
Man…how can she make me feel like that in only a matter of minutes?
I wonder if I should have told her anything?…
Should of, would of, could of. I can only hope the next time I see her I will be in a better place. She also told me that I was maybe manic in high school.
Really?…
i am trying to figure out when my mania started. i think probably when I was a child. shiiiitttttt this has been with me for a long time. it’s so hard to love oneself through all of this, but i think that is one of the lessons.
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