History of attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder.
History of stimulant and cannabis abuse.
Axis II: None.
Axis III: Lithium toxic.
Axis IV: Primary support group.
Current life events.
Axis V: Current Global assessment of functioning 60.”
So0o0o I’m not sure y’all know…
I’m in a ‘looney bin’ right now-ish… don’t worry- gettin’ bettah-ish (whatever that means).
Butt, I usta live in a bigger psych ward called New York City. That city is cray cray.
“This is a [twenty something]-year-old, single, white male with a history of bipolar disorder with psychotic features, cannabis dependance, and amphetamine/dextroamphetamine abuse who self-presented… approximately four days after being discharged from [a unit at this hospital] with a chief complaint of ‘I’m fucking famous on the internet and [they] don’t understand.’ The patient was in his usual state of health until mid-May when he presented to [a] hospital with several days of no sleep, irritability, pressured and tangential speech, taking off his clothes inappropriately and delusional thinking (“Google and the CIA are spying on us)… The patient arrived wearing… red lipstick smeared across his face, with a backward question mark drawn in marker on his forehead… He was found walking down the street naked with a chicken mask.”
We don’t have much time to add beauty to the world, y’all. When Antonio Gaudi built his church that has yet to be finished, he said, “God has all the time in the world,” or something. Not if global warming “happens” in “full”…
We’re all sorta fucked.
“He continued to exhibit varying episodes suggestive of grandiosity. These include episodes of dressing up flamboyantly as when he dressed in an American flag on the Fourth of July, as well as verbalizing some thoughts of making it big in the near future…”
It’s way past the grand bedtime at Purgatory Vacations for the Brain, butt, I thought I’d express my feeling toward fame (not to mention the “checks” flashlight to see if your sleeping, awake, or dead, woke me up).
Fame is like a good sized boner in your skinny jeans. You’re constantly adjusting it. It feels good, but needs constant satiation. There isn’t much you can do- ‘sept change your sex, refuse to leave the room til it’s settled down, or tuck it up and wear your added confidence proudly.
I’ve been waking up with sum extra wood lately- I must really be famous on the internet.