Cyclothymia is a big bucket of suck

So, yeah…Yesterday I was in this paranoid insecure mindspace where I felt like my existence was an offense against mankind.It was making me pissed off to have others so easily speak and basically imply I am somehow lazy and a loser because I wasn’t bowing down to their needs and demands. And I wasn’t getting much feedback to discourage the mentality, either.

Today…totally different mind space and there really was nothing that changed it other than the brain reboot of sleep.

Cyclothymia fucking sucks!

My brain is a traitor.It has long sent out the wrong chemicals thus I am operating on wrong messages which affect my behavior and thought processes. BUT because I have some good days where I am lucid, this distorted cycling process is dismissed as “personality”.

Yes, because my personality has chosen to convince me that I was pregnant in spite of never missing a period. Then there was the period where I swore I had bugs crawling on my skin even though no one else saw anything there. Totally a choice. And all that paranoia that basically reduced me to being an agoraphobic shut in because my brain INSISTED if I left the safe space, me or my belongings, would somehow be harmed.
I absolutely delighted in choosing to feel that insane.

They claim “cyclothymia” is mild.

Taking ten pregnancy tests in a month despite having a period and your brain still insisting you’re pregnant…
My insanity is not mild at times. Sometimes, I swear I have a brain tumor because my thoughts are so “out there”.
The doctor and counselor say, “Yeah, but you’re still able to recognize that they’re wrong ideas.”
Except…at times, I really am NOT.
Most of us tend to take our minds as the gospel. As it should be, the thoughts are your own so you are acting on information at hand.
Cyclothymia combined with intense anxiety…
The paranoia becomes real. The messages your brain sends, right or wrong, become your gospel even if you doubt them. And that mind frame is rife for self doubt.
You doubt your family, your friends, perfect strangers, the reliability of your appliances. And every time your paranoia proves right, it just feed the metastasizing misinformation your brain sends out. To the point where you walk a tightrope somewhere between reality and fiction, never sure what is what. You think you know…But you can’t be sure.
After all, your brain is defective and the information you are basing thoughts, feelings, and behavior on is highly suspect.
But then again, what if you’re just a self sabotaging paranoid with a negative attitude rather than suffering from a mental illness?

I have NO idea.


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