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Paranoia.

It accompanies the Lies whispered by Bipolar. I’m now on the Paranoia Train right now. And it is not an enjoyable ride. There’s no windows on the train to look out of and see the scenery (which right now is a barren wasteland so I’m not missing to much, but still), no food or drinks offered (which isn’t a bad thing either as I think it’s been poisoned or drugged because people want me to be complacent in society and a HUGE FUCKTHATSHIT), nor is there any music to listen to that friends out the sound of the wheels along the track. Clack-clack, Clack-clack, Clack-clack. An ear splitting SCREEEEECH as the train slows to takr a turn. Sitting in my “room”, swaying back and forth to the movement of the train, nothing but my paranoid thoughts to keep me company.

Yesterday the Lies had my crying in a heap on the floor, feeling me how much better off everyone would be if I aren’to here. And those lies almost won. ALMOST. Today, paranoia as me sitting in the corner, my knees up to my chin wondering who is saying what about me. Do they really know what it’s like? They’re judging me because of what I’m wearing. Oh my God, Florida is cheating on me.

OF COURSE it’s not “rational” thinking, hence the word “PARANOIA”. There’s nothing logical or rational about this kind of thinking. It takes over after Lies has come in a sowed its seeds,and for those of us who are strong enough to win the battle against Lies that day, all, we go on to battle Paranoia. And Paranoia is a different beast all together.

As I lie (lay?) here in bed I wonder exactly wtf today is going to be like. Do I put on the “I’m ok nothing’s wrong” face and lie to the outside world? Do I stay in bed frozen by the thoughts of Paranoia? Do I get out of the house and be the real me, showing everyone I’m not “fine”? *I fucking HATE the word FINE*

I honestly do not know the answer to that, at this moment in time. Right now, Paranoia has me by the hair, pulling my head back, its disgustingly hot and foul breath in my cheek, and telling me that Florida doesn’t want me. He never loved me. I am just a place holder like I was before. I mean nothing to him but a notch in his belt, something he can boast about to his friends. Everything he says is a lie to me, to only make me feel like he wants me, wants a life with me. I am nothing to him but a pretty face and a conquest to him.

I am able to escape and crawl back to my corner and shudder at the sound of Paranoia’s vile laughter, and still feel the heat of his breath on my skin. Try as I can to rub it away, it’s still there like a brand on my soft and delicate skin. I mutter to myself, trying to convince myself it’s not real, but the more I try, the worse it becomes. Paranoia’s laughter views ever louder until I press my hands against my ears to down it out and scream for it to shut up and to leave me alone.

I rock back and forth trying tirelessly to convince myself that I AM loved, I AM worthy, that Florida does want me in his life. I’m already so tired and it’s only 930am here… And I have yet to do what I need to do to survive the day. Like shower. (I did manage to eat, but it shortly revolted as does most of the food I eat lately). And do the things that “normies” do.
I have a dr appt today with Dr G, to find out why my last parts are so fucked up, and Paranoia had picked up on this and is telling me nasty, vile, devastating things. Paranoia gives no fucks, like Lies. They are both here for their own gain and entertainment. And my brain and body must suffer for it.
One more week and I will see my new psych doc that suggested the genetic testing and I hope and pray to the heavens above that there’s SOMETHING SOMEWHERE that will help me get to baseline again. And that I can stay there longer than a few months.

I’m trying to explain to Florida about the Paranoia, but it’s like trying to explain Rocket Science to a dog. He’s so easily distracted and takes it all so personally… Some days I wonder if I’ll have the ability to get through to him about this.

Until then, Paranoia and Lies are playing Ring-Around-the-Rosie with me, and I’m the one that keeps falling down.

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