I feel separated from this Earth, one with only myself and the molecules who make me. My world is different. It’s a delicate fold, a pop of color. Beautiful details layered in every frame. I hang above - inhaling, soaking, absorbing them all. They are my world though I am separted from this Earth.
A Public Service Announcement, by moi.
In lieu of my recent experiences, I’d like to make a public announcement on the only forum I’ve got. If you are given a prescription, please do your research. I was recently given a medication which two other doctors have since told me I had no business being put on. This being the case, I can only assume pharmaceutical sales and drug company kick backs were the reason I was...
: The Chemical Chronicles →
dangatorium: By Carly Yansak I had tucked my head as far into my knees as I possibly could, but the feeling wouldn’t stop. I’m gonna be sick. It was all I could think, with my vision darkening and tremors riddling my limbs. Only one other thought would allow itself in during those minutes…
I’m afraid of unraveling. Afraid that the chemicals in my brain will override any sense of reality I have and I’ll fall into a place which only exists where I can’t see it. More importantly, I’m afraid I’ll unravel him. I wish I came with a warning label, something saying I was bound to be trouble. Before it was only an inappropriate sense of humor and a tendency...
The Chemical Chronicles.
I’m spinning in a chair across from him, listening to everything he says with what feels like a blank expression although I know it’s dripping with my insides. There’s a diagram in front of me and he’s pointing to a place in-between the words “manic” and “depressive”. “When you fall here in the arc… well it means you’re not always high, you’re not always low… but you hit those points in, lets...
The Bloggiest Blog.
This is the bloggiest blog I’ve ever posted. A pure textual conception of what I’m thinking. Why not, right? Isn’t this concept where blogs were born? If you follow me, you know I’ve been diagnosed with being bipolar. This is no shock to me. It’s a bit hard to swallow, accepting there’s something off in my brain chemistry, but I know I’ll be able to live...
The Fucking Cycle.
My own words ring through my head as I watch his lips move. Except the cycle always came back. The psychiatrist is in a leather chair in front of me, drawing out a diagram of mood disorders and where I land in that arc. As important as his words are, I can’t stop staring at the bobble head Shakespeare’s on his book shelf. “So where you are is here,” he points to the...
Part of Who.
I can feel his frustration through the phone. “Carly, I need you to just fucking tell me.” “I… well I feel stupid! I can’t just come out and tell you. I don’t know how to just say this.” At 9:30 I had texted my boyfriend to tell him I needed to talk. Now at 1 a.m. he was none the wiser but all the more irritated. “Sam, I feel ashamed. I...