Paranoid roof dwellers.

My brain is a fucking dick.

There are many things I hate about bipolar, but one of my biggest hates is the paranoia. When things start going bad, the paranoia is one of the first problems to rock up to the party and it is always the most damaging.

For me the paranoia is the trigger for the crippling anxiety and depression, because it takes all of the people in my life and says “Pssst, you see all these people? Well they hate you and wish you wouldn’t hang around because you’re so lame” or if it is feeling especially fucky it will say “Oh my god….don’t freak out but I’m 99% positive that there is a person living in your roof! seriously! I’m not fucking with you…holy shit there is someone IN YOUR HOUSE, ABORT ABORT”

My anxiety for the second option isn’t as bad as it used to be mainly because I’m so tired from the whole parenting gig that the idea of someone in my house isn’t as scary as the thought of dealing with the Gremlin without any sleep.

I’ll be honest though, I’m fucking angry. I’m angry that I finally think I’m in a good place and then all of this shit rears its ugly head to remind me that I have no control at all. I’m angry that as soon as the Husband isn’t around to help keep me grounded I immediately lose my shit and assume that I am a unlovable piece of shit who has no skills and will never amount to anything, but mostly I’m angry because it’s so painful to feel like this all the time.

Right now I’m finding it a bit hard to find my way out of this rut, half of me is like “You’re a strong independent woman and you should be able to sort your shit out!!” and the other half is like “……Hold me…..anyone?…..stranger in my roof??”

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