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I just want to feel better. I wish people understood mental illness more than they do. The people at work tell me I need God, and that Satan preys on the weak. I wish they understood what it felt like to have a monster lurking beneath the surface clawing it’s way out. People tell me these feelings will pass, I think after 22 years they would have passed by now. I removed my Mirena in hopes of it helping calm down my mood swings, I cry less but I still hurt just the same. I hate being manic depressive. I can’t deal with this anymore.

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Hope.

I may have lost Alexander, but I am growing a tiny bit stronger every day. I miss my friend, my confidante. Who knows, maybe he’ll stop being such a psychopath and at least be willing to accept my friendship.