I hate my faulty brain. At this point, the idea of happiness is just as much of a delusion as me thinking that I have a divine ability hear other peoples thoughts. On a good day, when I think I might be feeling good, it always just feels so artificial. I miss the old me before being brain sick. I’m constantly reminding myself of how much my grandma loves me as justification for me to not end my life. Even this is hard to do though because I have a difficult time imagining what live feels like at times. I don’t want meds. They make me compliant. I don’t want to feel compliant I want to feel like a normal human being. Sorry if this just sounds bitchy