One Day

I'm trolling Sandman - the MGTOW guy. I NEED TO STOP! I just feel so insecure that I can't help but look. I keep looking and looking. My therapist told me not to and I CAN'T STOP. " Just for correction Sandman, personality disorders are not chosen by individuals. They are usually projected cognitive disorders to blame other people for feelings of inferiority of themselves brought about by trauma or a lack of support in childhood. One example would be projecting one's own depression by dating someone else with a mental illness and blaming them for problems within themselves. A personality disorder does mean a person can have issues with normal empathizing disorders but they are not incapable of empathy. One example of this is Elliot Rodger. Since you're a MGTOW, you probably know that Elliot Rodger killed many sorority girls in Santa Barbara because he never had a girlfriend and never had sex. If you can see Elliot Rodger's video confessions, you can notic...

Since I saw this is Lena Dunham's book, I figured I should try. Truly I only have one ex but it felt like my heart had been broken four times so.... I guess I better try. James - Some guys will never notice you - Some guys will find you unattractive - Just cause they are beautiful doesn't mean they are nice - You will never impress them - Dreaming about them is pointlesss - I got into the fine arts to prove myself beautiful to him - In the end, I learned about feeling beautiful Graham - Some guys will secretly like you - Unattractive guys have issues - Lazy guys don't want to try hard - Atheists have grudges - You can't become a tomboy to make these guys like you - You can't make yourself mentally ill to make these guys like you - These guys will steal your friends / date your friends - How passion for something is important - though he was never impressed by my writing - How you should let someone go if they don't want you - How sexual attr...

I hate writing. Literature almost feels evil. It started when I began reading Marian Keyes and Emily Giffin novels or maybe even before when I picked up Madame Bovary. Everything was so conventional and moralistic. Moreover, the mere convention that there is something to learn from every situation is perhaps the frustrating point here. See to write is to lie. To write is to try to imagine things are different than they really are. To use big language to impress people. To have some lesson learned at the end. I'm sick of it. There is not something to be learned from everything and why should someone have to worry about what others think of them all the time? Keep in mind I still think I want to be an English teacher, it's just that I don't know if I should aspire to be a writer anymore. Life is idealized as working in a progressive way where at Point A or Point B, you're supposed to have learned X, Y and Z. I'm tired of feeling like I don't measure up to expectat...

So I still feel like I will never find love. I know I've been blamed as selfish and narcissistic for blaming the entire male gender for my problems but I still feel justified in what I feel. Even though Spencer says he likes me, I know he isn't coming back. He himself said I should not count on a future relationship with him because he doesn't have enough time for that. I sound kind of psychopathic but I know I will be alone forever simply because of the Bipolar diagnosis and subsequent belief that I'm Borderline. It doesn't really matter what I believe because I still hate myself regardless and still blame myself for loneliness as well as men for being too quick to judge. That's why I've decided to be alone. I'm never going to feel for a man like I did for Spencer. I will just hurt other men. I'm better off alone.

The real reason I wanted to graduate early was because I wanted to catch up with you and be your equal. I'm always trying to be your equal because in some way, I still imagine you'll come back for me. Even when it is so hopeless and you're so far away. You fill me with a fear that gives me no comfort because the idea of any woman enjoying you reminds me that you're moving farther and farther away from me. I don't think you ever really realized how much you mean to me. How much I love you. Cause I deeply love you even when it is unreciprocated and I would gladly heal your wounds or make you happy just to please you. I still haven't been able to meet anyone in your likeness yet the idea of sending you nude pictures makes me feel cheap and farther away from you. I so badly wish that I have another chance with you. To kiss you under the stars and feel your love. Just to be near you and your spirit. Yet I already knew we were doomed from the start and even when I ima...

In September of 2013, I was having problems with my roommate at university. I thought going to a counseling office would help. Instead, I was proclaimed to have had a psychotic break and   was sent away to a mental hospital. I was put on Risperdal, Zoloft and Depkatote. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I spent the next two years being switched around on many medications. My reaction to medications was not good. My grades plummeted because of the medication I was on. Zoloft gave me manic-depressive cycling that lasted over the course of a few hours. Ambilify made me very hypersexual and I ended up sleeping with 6 guys – something that was out of my character and I had considered I would never do. Yet the blame was put on my Bipolar Disorder. I was also having bad periods. The periods were blamed on the sex I was having, not having any physical conditions checked. I was on Lithium and another mood stabilizer at the time. I was getting so lethargic that I would pass out...

I fucking hate myself. I am fucking annoyed at my feelings and at having feelings. I want to make something out of my sadness. I want to rise above what has happened to me but the truth is I'm terrified and ashamed of everything. So ashamed and so mad that I feel this sad. Spring feels as if it will be upon us. There is a desire growing in me that contradicts every aspect of my waking reality. I know that I should not complain - if I had love for even a short time on this earth, that is better than having no love at all. Yet I also feel envy for the pregnant ladies. I want to create. I want to give way to the madness inside of me. It won't be perfect and it will be very messy yet, I feel like the story inside of me is meant to be birthed out of inspiration, frustration or both. To escape from this reality of confinement into realms more deeper and of understanding. Because the pain is too great. It is still as if he touched me yesterday. I have to escape this hell somehow...