Dissociative

I don't remember writing that last blog.
But, I assume I did, since it's there.

Officially Bipolar. Whatever that means.
Involves new meds, more meds, and a psychiatrist and his dog.
Quite the combination.

Looking at old pictures gives me a small slice of happiness, something I'm in short supply of.
Jade eyes become more jaded every day.
Tired of complaining and being tired.
Can't stand the sour taste left in my mouth by all of the "I Love You"'s that have been held in for so long, having no one to say them to.
Loneliness is a bitter pill to swallow, and I'm about to overdose.

This life is two sizes too small.
I feel like a bird in a cage with clipped wings and an open cage door, looking longinly at the open window across the room. Accidentally taunted by freedom and flight.