Today was rough. There’s no real reason why. That’s the fucked up thing with being bipolar. It just happens. It’s like something in your body decides it’s time to make you depressed. I just cut myself again. It never feels complete unless I have one that bleeds a lot. I don’t use a razor blade anymore since I ended having to go to hospital last time. The cutting only makes me feel numb.
Paul came over last night. It was just sex though. I haven’t felt any real connection to anyone that I’ve fucked in a long time. I always end up freaking out if someone tries to get too close. I had one of those car conversations with myself. Those are normal, right? I just want to feel happy, like normal person happy. I don’t want to be manic or elated, just happy, content.
Dick is seeing someone new. I’m trying hard not to be upset about it. She’s pretty and skinny, but she’s also into stuff that he’s into, which I guess is appealing for him. I feel like I take internet stalking to a whole new level. I should really stop obsessively checking both of their instagrams and facebooks. It’s really not healthy.
I’m heading over to Damien’s place in a bit. I don’t really want to go. I never really want to go, but it’s so hard to end things. He wants to move in together and move to a new city, and that scares me. I’ve felt so out of control lately. I haven’t been keeping up with my schoolwork and I’m just so tired.
I haven’t fallen too far into my depression yet. It’s still manageable. I know that I’m not in the awful place where I feel like I can’t get out and I have to go to hospital. I really hate hospital. Everything is so strange there and I always can’t wait to go home.
I guess that’s it for now. I’m still not sure what I’m hoping to accomplish with these posts. I guess I’m just trying to make sense of everything and figure out how to get better. Better is such a subjective word. No one really gets better from BPD or bipolar disorder. It just becomes more manageable.