Stimulants.
They messed with my sleeping pattern, that's why I take them. So I don't crash out during a party and sleep walk/talk my way into social suicide.
Or actual suicide.
Sleeping around people for me feels really fucking vulnerable and I don't plan on doing it ever again. So earlier, I knocked back the stimulants and my brain went into hyperactive mode.
It reached its peak during the foam pool party but then my hyper few hours rapidly dropped at the sound of Blossoms harsh words.
Biracial, bisexual, bipolar.
Okay, I added the last word but if she knew she definitely would've mentioned it herself.
That's why she never rose to my advances, she has a problem with everything that made me, me. Well, me too Blossom.
I hated the skin I was in, it wasn't the colour or the race. It wasn't the texture or freckles. It was what lay beneath it.
I hated my reflection.
I hated photographs of me.
I hated way the way I moved continuously.
I hated the way I thought.
I hated the way I dressed.
I hated feeling crazy.
I hated myself.I opened my medicine cabinet and looked everything attempting to keep me 'sane.' I just wanted to be normal.
So canister after canister I emptied the contents into the toilet and flushed them all away.
YOU ARE READING
Blossom 🌸
ChickLitI didn't take my meds today. Two days ago Caitlin Adams asked if I was bipolar because I was into her on Monday but by Friday I had figured out that she was too demanding. But those words, that question... it seeped into my soul and tarnished my tho...