Dear Bipolar Demon,
You've had control of me for the past several weeks. I have been able to wrest my mind back a few times, but in a day or two, you come back to snatch it away again.
Like right now--I feel like everything is pointless, that I'll never get better, that all I am good for is lying around and crying, that I will feel this way until the day I die.
But you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, because I know that isn't true. I know it's not me saying these things. I know it's you whispering these things in my ear in your seductive voice that's so, so, so easy to believe.
Fuck you.
I have felt better in the past. I have gotten better. I won't always feel this way because there have been times--sometimes fairly long periods of time--when your bitch ass has been chained to the dungeon wall in my brain and gagged so I couldn't hear a goddamn word you said. Just because you've managed to break loose again doesn't mean I'll never be able to lock you up again. It just means I need some stronger chains next time.
I know what you're trying to do to me. And I'll have you know that tomorrow, I'm hiding my shotgun from myself. No, that's not right. I'm not hiding it from myself; I'm hiding it from you, you cocksucking sonofabitch. The unloaded shotgun will be buried in the back of the closet in the other room, and the shells will be put in some difficult-to-get-to location that I haven't decided upon yet. And they will remain there until you're locked up again.
If I have someone come in on me, I will beat them to death with the vacuum cleaner if need be, but I will NOT let you take advantage of me. I will not let you control the part of me that is prone to self-destruct. I didn't give in to you without meds, you lying bastard, and I'm not about to now. You might get the upper hand for a minute, but by the time I'm able to lay hands on both gun and shells, I'll have snapped out of it.
You don't have the power to kill me yourself. All you can do is try to drive me to kill myself, and I don't want to die. Get that straight, asshole.
I have been broken so many times in my life. You will not do it again. You will not break me. You will not outwit me. You will not beat me. I didn't go through all the shit I've gone through for you to break me now. I didn't come this far for you to stop me now. It's too late for you to win this time.
I'm on to your game, you treacherous little motherfucker, and after a couple of days of increased meds, I'm coming for you. There is nowhere you can run and nowhere you can hide. I will break you this time and not the other way around.
Your ass is mine. I promise you that.
~An Angry Bunny
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