I Hate Being Manic DepressiveI probably won't write much, because I'm miserable and sad and waiting for the Valium to kick in. The past two days have been horribly crazy...I went to this art opening and all kinds of things about it just really flipped my shit. I don't know where reality was or if I was totally out to lunch the whole time. I hate being manic depressive. I told my doctor today that I was wanting to die and I am. I don't hate *myself* - I just hate how hard this life feels all the time.
I think I have insight and I know *exactly* what's going on - and then I'm completely confused. Is it "insight" talking or just crazed paranoia and psychosis? Misery. Total fucking misery.