#mania2

[tas-paradise]

@jayshogo #art #杯音圏 #love #peace #hajyuku #cool #sk8 #surf #tasfootwear #mania2 #black #fashion #lifestyle #fashionstyle #maiami #worldwide #world #livepainting @jayshogo がTAS MANIA2 履いてくれてます‼️Coooool👍

[mentallythaillest-blog]

I’m so angry all the time. And I don’t even know what or who I’m angry about. I feel so incoherent, inwardly and especially outwardly. (How can I convey meaning if I can’t grasp it myself?)

Am I angry at me, the person? Am I angry at me, the terrible awful no good very bad brain with too many disorders? Am I angry at the keppra? Am I actually angry at my friends, or am I just manic? Mixed? I can’t fucking tell.

I don’t have the words for my frustration. Yesterday I almost had a panic attack at work again. It’s amazing how good everyone at work is about that. Disappear first, medicate, then text them downstairs to let them know what’s up.

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that work feels like my safest place. Probably both. At least I like and feel appreciated by the people there. All of you on twitter are pretty great too, it’s just different when you can actually see someone, you know?

This seizure medication bullshit is fucking me up so bad. I’ve been rapid cycling for almost a week now, and I’m still only half way to the target dose. And we have no clue if this even has anything to do with my not having seizures. I can’t wait to be a year seizure free so I can stop it. (But that’ll probably be super fun too).

My neurologist is incompetent and I’d love to strip her medical license. Alas, I do not have the power.

I don’t think I’m asking too much for my friends to actually make an effort to see me at least once a week. Makes me realize how much I have always gone to them, when they can’t even bother coming to me. I get not wanting to be around my parents, because obviously I don’t want to either, but they can pick me up from work and that’s halfway to their places anyway! I just feel so undervalued and unsupported. Like, they say they want to help, they say they want to be supportive, but then they just... aren’t? And I feel like the bad guy, again, whenever I point it out. Maybe someday I’ll stop feeling guilty for my emotions. (Probably not).

I’ve been listening to Fireworks a lot lately. I forgot how much I enjoyed them.