Friday, January 2, 2009

Bipolar

It has been three months since that afternoon in Dr. A's sunlit office.

Since then:
I've felt amazing.
I've felt awful.

I've felt saner for longer than perhaps ever in 13 years.

My father was wrong:
I am not faking.
I am not broken.
I am not worthless.
I am not trash.

My mother was wrong:
It is not because of God.
It is not because of Satan.
It is not because of my father.
It is not because of her.

B's sister was wrong:
This is not brain damage.
This is not disease.

Dr. A was wrong:
There is more to This than is dreamt of in your Medicine.

2 Said...:

freethinker said...

good to have you back.

i've always had a distrust of psychiatry.
there is more to human mind than is dreamt of in psychiatry.

Awais said...

Hmmm.

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