1/9/2018 Bipolar II

I take a drink of the sparkling water on my desk. I feel, no, I hear the bubbles slide down my throat. They settle me, like a fountain splashing into it’s water, ripples easing into my rib cage.

My fingers scratch on the wood, digging deep. Methodical, even scratching that calms my soul and gives it life, all at the same time. It’s like feeding an obsession. And it’s appetite keeps growing. 

Reading through emails, I pinch the skin on my arms underneath my shirt. I feel the skin tense and redden, feel the blood vessels rise to the surface.

My teeth bite into my bottom lip, piercing, grinding, giving me a small piece of ecstasy i so crave. Swelling fills my mouth and blood coats my tongue.

All of my sense are on overdrive, and my body is like a five star buffet.

I hate this. This disease that has dug itself into my bones, into my synapses, across my prefrontal cortex and through my amygdala, the neurotransmitters in my brain firing off and arguing, constantly.

I see my life take a hammer to others, and watch it smash through their hearts. I am trying so hard not to be self destructive, but destroying everyone else. I do not want to.

 

I’m so sorry.

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