the miserable life of a miserable teenager
weaponized

If mental illness was a weapon, I’d be fully loaded.

I scream sometimes,

break things,

hurt feelings.

I promise that is not me.

The feeling that comes over me,

is irreversible.

I’m always fully conscious and aware of the fact, I shouldn’t do it.

But you put a glass of whiskey in front of a recovering alcoholic and yell at them to drink it, what would they do?

Resist the urge? Of course not. This is the real world, peer pressure seminars don’t prepare you for the feeling of self pressure.

Gets tempting, hard to stop.

Know I should, but I can’t anymore.

You keep telling me to stop blaming my freak outs on my mental problems, but there was never a freak out before the mental problems.

I’m angry and sad.

Ready to use my weapon.