Excusez-moi. Brushed my teeth and had an apple and ate a can of tuna in water. I guess there was still time to order a pizza. It's not but midnight. My last post had me thinking of the first time I got drunk and threw off my clothes and lost my memory a few times actually. Who needs clothes when you have Stroh 80% spirit and all the cider or beer you can carry. Anyways. Anxiety is a creeper. That guy has a kid now and all is well. He but called me a person whose born with a defect to not understand literacy by adding words
and he stole Mein Kampf from the school but finders keepers. I wasn't diagnosed then. Nah this nigga got a sombrero stolen.
My memory is long and I'm observant. I'm vocal and I'm expressive. Communication is important to me. Sometimes I care too much about what stupid stuff people put out there on their social feeds. I like to disagree because I know better. Sometimes it's not about being right though. It's about getting rich. It's about not getting into jail. It can be any adulting stuff and even if I'm right, their senses are better than what I can perceive. What am I even going on about!?
Jason Derulo was on Capital Breakfast show and I listened for a bit.
Should have put that scalp scrub mask on like a good girl and get my flaky thoughts out of other peoples business. My night mask though is making a huge hole on the side of my nose. I should've cleaned it and my face. Now I've just cleaned my face and come to illiterate my thoughts on this laptop. I scrolled Tiktok for an hour. I should limit my phone time to fifteen minutes. It's doable. I'd be bored as heck. Almost 60 hours per week is just too much though. Makes me shrudder. I probably was on the computer more as a child. Made my own virtual Hogwarts at 11 and even a parent sent me an email if they could put their kids there. lmao
Anyways. Wore this same nightgown a year ago exact. Different stuff then. Faceapp. Everything in the past is just coincidental. Say... people don't change. My brain stopped developing when my mum threw me out at a bit under eighteen. Her sister knocked my teeth in with her fist so I made a criminal report and police wanted to take me in instead. To hospital I went with the nurses laughing about it. I was ill alright. The day before walked outside that spring all day, so at the end of the day they made me speak and defend myself so much, I couldn't physically speak. My family just saying I was inside all day at the computer and never went anywhere. I was living a life, I swam and went to gym early hours and walked 50km per week but this was a lie the psychiatrist told me. What did she mean, couldn't see I had lost from 80 to 66 kg? Just talking how she worked eight hours per day and had no children like wtf that had to do with me? I could still punch her if I saw her again I hated her so much I just walked out on her office so many times. Some doctoral students was told I had got some kind of messages in the lyrics of this band and I said I did not want to talk about it. That music was so shitty I had nightmares if it was playing. Crumbled a CD with my hands, to prove it and apologized to the woman, who had owned it. Proof is like a monster in the eyes of psychiatrists. They want all evidence that you were sane to be hidden, locked up, best case destroyed if they could.
Mental health is just mental illness but portrayed poorly. Where was I. Yes I still remember a lot from 2009 when I got admitted. Or was it 2008. It doesn't matter because the diagnosis is written before you know where you are as patient. They accuse you of having psychosis when you were younger and have just their big heads to prove it. My diagnosis was not clinical, it was subjective. Paid. Badly worded because they did not know how much all of it offends me to this day. I just want every line srutizined and disapproven. It was not nice at all to get out from there as it was never fun to get in there, walk the 100 steps of that one corridor for three months gaining almost ten kilos. Not even with others who were my age. Then sent for years to some old-dated house to recover. Just adding drugs if I cried and explained through my gray fog what they do and did wrong. Fearing hating persons prescribing me sleeping pills or injections. Risperdal Consta. I gained 50 kg in a few years and those severe effects of the drug. Milk from my breasts too was a side effects. Lactate bitch...
Sigh. I could never be a mother. I could never not love them but I can't give something I never got in my mother's milk. It would be wrong to give this country children. I can destroy my body but not save rest of the population.
Hashtag deep shit
I'm better off alone. I have something I can use as a last resort. When the world looks uglier than I've ever seen it be, I can always say what I have been diagnosed with. It's worth it. It's destroyed most of my friendships and got people to tell me not to contact them ever again. My dad did use it on my boyfriend passive aggressively. YOU DO KNOW WHAT KAJSA HAS.
or maybe just born with it you motherfucker. Is it my illness that I hold onto when all else is too morbid. I have never seen things or heard things. My ears could bleed from trying and my vision can get blurry from trying. There is no extra out there that others couldn't see. Only me on the receiving end of people's sufferings.
Your culture pollutes. My eyes must be goggles because there has to be one more thing I can see in your ink plot tests. Fox. I must've cheated. Because there's no order to things. Psychology is crap like bmi's. Paid tests. Take countrymen as lab rats and expose them to your lies. No women's allowed. Not even binary.
Radical peace and harmony to you all.