I argue with myself. Seriously. I mean not in a creepy, I have a few personalities talking in my head way or; nothing like that. It’s kind of like the devil and angel that sit on my shoulder, one wanting to kill me while the other wants to see me live. This morning I looked in the mirror and told myself,
“Shut the hell up Bats. You are an Alcoholic, you do have Bipolar Disorder. You don’t have to fall into this stupid fucking trap everytime you think life is safe from both of those. You have been and will be an Alcoholic your whole life. You will be Bipolar until the end of time. So quit your fucking whining and get on with life on lifes terms. Jeesh, you can’t drink and you sure as shit better deal with your mental health before it deals with your ass.”
But yet even right here, right now I am preparing my argument for tomorrow when I begin telling myself once again, that I’m not Bipolar, or that one night of drinking won’t turn into a hell of a two year blackout. Nope, the Countess of Relapse won’t win this argument, I just haven’t figured out how to not argue with myself day in and day out on these stupid ass issues. Someday, hopefully soon I won’t have an argumentative day with myself and my thoughts. Until then, I’ll sit on my hands to not fall into the lies of both issues.