"Borderpolar" (original character by me)

I'm abandoned.

It sure fuckin seems that way.

Don't tell me I'm not actually alone.

I don't fucking give a shit.

Try slippin on my shoes.

Just try em.

You couldn't walk two inches.

My mind is a fucking hellhole.

My emotions are fucking sharks.

Ripping my head off and splattering blood all over.

I can't stand humans. But I'm also fatally lonely- and I mean, seriously dude. I think it might actually be killing me one resorting-to-insanely-unhealthy-foods-when-depressed at a time.

I can practically taste the looks these fucking idiots give me.

They're all so, "Oh, look at the famous musician who rose to fame and fucked it all up and isn't creating music anymore- he just threw it all away because of some pussy excuse of having depression- what was it? Oh, borderline personality disorder? Mhm, that's what they all say, don't they."

My diagnosis is not up for anyone else's fucking discussion. Except for my own. Because sometimes I don't quite believe it myself.

But you know me. The dumbass over-sharing emotionally charged up Mental Health Advocate™️.

I'm a free fuckin therapist as I talk about my fuckin life, let you in on way too much detail about my shit brain, and then fuck myself over because I don't shut up and keep my political opinions to myself.

Lovely ain't it?

Just imagine what it's like for me trying to fall asleep at night. And choose your next words very carefully.