I'm still finding myself having paranoid and negative thoughts. - He thinks I'm a psychopath. He'll never defend me. She hates me. God loves to fuck with me. I'm fat and worthless. Who are these people being added as friends and am I as worthy as they are?
I ain't gonna make it anywhere with this school shit except further in debt. These assholes are just lying to me when they tell me I'm a good author. Even if I do get a gig as a historian or whatever, I'd still fuck it up because of how badly bipolar I am. I guess I've always been paranoid, so why the fuck should I expect that to ever go away. It doesn't help gain and retain employment or real friends for that matter. When you're always looking for the knife coming at your back or waiting to be abandoned or toyed with - it sucks.
It sucks more when you wonder/worry about what those very few people that you respect (if you got my toddler manuscript, you're one of them) think about you or how they see you, and it is so important to you that you get the same amount of respect from them that they get from you or that they see you as someone who has worth - that it eats you alive, especially if you disappoint them like I did with Frank the night I committed myself, and for the two weeks before and probably the 4 days after I was released.
Yeah I'm thinking too much, and would rate the depression at a 7.
I can't get this tattoo finished soon enough. Maybe the endorphins from that will kick in enough to even me out for a few weeks or months.