On this day of thanks I can`t help but think about everything that I have lost. People I have loved, things I`v cherished, fond memories.

The world can be a cruel place if you let it and sometimes even when you don`t. To give thanks you must first have to have something to be thankful for and that I am. I wake up everyday and am grateful that I am free. My mind, body & soul.

There have been times in my life that my mind was truly not my own, it existed on a different plane or so it seemed. As if I was watching my body perform these acts and say these things only to regret it all later on…or not. I have said and done things to people I loved and cared about more times than I care to remember, perpetuating hate, anger and confusion for everyone around me.

I should probably say that I despise myself for the things that I have said and done. Somethings I will continue to be tormented by and other I feel no remorse.

With this “gift” I have the ability to throw a switch and be unfeeling about the things that I do, as well as how I treat certain people around me. Many people have the capacity to be callous and cold-hearted, I am one of those. I am also one that can easily forget the things I have said and done.

Whether I suppress it or completely disregard it I have yet to determine that. Regardless of all that I am still free, free to wake up make my mistakes and beg for forgiveness.

Sometimes I wish I lived in a society that seen my “gift” as an advantage and not as a hindrance but even I know that it would have to be a cold, cold world for that to be true. I am thankful for the people who put themselves in my life and choose to stay here, it would be a very lonely place if I was abandoned by all those that I have hurt. Try as I might I can’t help but think that one day my luck will run out and I will be given up on by all those I do hold so dear.

Lady B.

As I write this I sit in a fog, a medically prescribed, drug induced stupor. One of the shittiest situations a person like me has is playing medication roulette! the ups & downs that comes with figuring out what drug is going to bring you back to reality. A reality that almost everyone else lives in that I have to adjust myself to be a part of.

I remember when drugs user to be FUN! I know I shouldn’t say that because “drugs are bad” but it’s true drugs use to be fun, getting high use to be the highlight of my day but then again so was getting dressed to go out and party till all hours of the night for days on end. Then I grew up and I decided I wanted to actually be apart of this world and put myself out there have my voice heard and that’s when my when my “gift” really came to light.

It was always there lurking in the background it’s true effects clouded by the sheer quantity of narcotics I was consuming. It’s easy to blame your psychosis on illicit drugs when that is what your world revolves around. Even when I limited my intake to a mere few marijuana cigarettes a day the crazy was still there, if anything it was worse!

I use the term crazy simply as a layman’s term, to convey to people who may not have experience or an understanding of people like me. Crazy to me means; to not make sense. And that is exactly what happens when my Bipolar Disorder takes over my life and becomes the most prominent thing about me.

I know I’m not truly “crazy” because actually in all honesty that word does not even begin to describe what I am when I am going through a manic episode (that’s what I like to call them cause they can kind of be like a show!) or when I fall into a deep, deep depression. The fact of the matter is when someone goes from one end of that spectrum to the other in a matter of weeks several times a year, it would be hard not to think…… Bitch be fucking crazy!!!

Lady B.