I can’t force myself to do what I don’t want to do right now, at all, whereas I feel that the normal person can. Suck it up and work hard for a paycheck, for example. I. Can’t. Do. That.

Wow. I have a brain disease.

Wow.

Poetry won’t pay the bills but it is an activity, and it occupies my mental computational power, so instead of having that anxiety attack I was having this morning, I start to work on something.

I was working on game design, but

This is fine.

And all I need is my mom to say, It’s okay, dear [my name], just do yourself, be you, write poetry if you want. We have the money, I’ll be retiring soon and your brother will help with the bills. You have a brain disease. Just surviving is hard, I know. If all she could say was this, and that it’s okay to just write poetrry.

I feel like she doesn’t know how hard it is for me.

But she works 8 hours a night in the hospital looking at screens. Wtf.

How do you survive even ONE night of that? Let alone 20 years.

I do not understand.

Having an anxiety attack knocking is a strange sensation. I have to tell you. Particularly when psychosis is involved. O_o

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