Time to re-arrange by Charlie Francis Cassidy

I can tell I’m having a manic episode, I mean I can usually tell sure but this one has some very obvious signs.

I’m re-arranging my furniture again.

It’s been awhile since once of these episodes. Has not happened in Melbourne at all till now. Haven’t had too much to work with really. I want to put my desk into my room, I just work better on my own sometimes. I spend all day in an office, I need time to myself I think. Of course this means I’ll see my housemates less, since there won’t be a whole lot for me to be out of my room for I guess but it’ll be fine. Hopefully it doesn’t see me spiral, sometimes being on my own can be a bad thing. But I guess I can always grab my laptop and come out here.

So tonight I decided to re-arrange my room to fit said desk and now I am trying very hard to not finish the move tonight. It’s past 11, I have work in the morning and moving this desk is going to take awhile. I have to empty it, and go through  a bunch of stuff, move the desk then put everything back. I have Tuesday off work so I should just wait till then to do it, it’s not so far away really. Trouble is when I’m manic, I just want to do things, right away. But, waiting for some meds to hopefully kick in and bring me down a bit.

Normally I wouldn’t care about being up till 3am following the whim of a manic episode but I am trying to be more responsible.

Why Do You Hate Yourself? by Charlie Francis Cassidy

Trigger Warning - Self Harm, Suicide


I was in the Emergency Room awhile ago, because I was caught before I could follow through on a plan I had. I wasn’t depressed though, I was very very manic.

So I got taken in and eventually at 3am a doctor wakes me up from the couch to speak to me about why I was there. The reoccurring question was - “why do you hate yourself”. Now, that’s all that’s going round my head.

I didn’t hate myself, that wasn't why I was there. That wasn’t why I wanted to die. I was manic, I thought I was possibly the best person alive even, I loved who I was. I just had to die. It was that simple. When I’m manic my head doesn’t exactly make trustworthy decisions.

I’m just still shocked at how much he didn't understand what I was trying to say. I guess maybe it is a bit confusing. Maybe it wasn’t because I was manic, maybe it was this personality disorder. Which I should really get sorted.

Anyway, for some reason tonight that’s all I can think of. I don’t hate myself. But why do I hate myself?

Manic, Stupid, Something by Charlie Francis Cassidy

Trigger warning: Suicide

Some days I really wonder how I’m even alive still.

Tonight I went out for drinks, that in itself sometimes sends me into a scary suicidal state but surprisingly this time was okay. Well, the drinks were. I decided to take some stuff tonight, and I don’t know what I took. It isn’t going terribly, thank fuck, but it really could have. That’s the problem when I’m like this, I’m finding myself thinking less and less about doing something and just doing it instead. 

Luckily if anything the drugs just have me more buzzed and manic. Hopefully the Seroquel brings me down before I start doing anything more reckless. Which I’m 5 hours late on as well, taking the Seroquel that is.

I’m not sure how seriously I am actually taking my health. I can sit here and write and think about it, and realise all these things about myself and what I should be doing to help myself. But when it comes down to it moment to moment, it all depends on the state I’m in. When I’m depressed it’s a bit easier to understand what I should be doing but harder to get myself to do it. When I’m manic, I’ve got the energy but I don’t have the direction anymore.

Speaking of direction, I’ve lost the direction of this post.

I’ve recently discovered that the more I click the more manic I am.

I’m clicking a lot.