After meeting with my sponsers' other sponsee we hit it off, both 22 and play blues guitar. Tuesday night I walk out the door, my mom say's don't forget to something to eat'.- I didnt listen... We got to the meeting, starting playing guitar, meeting other bipolar people. Hearing their stories. I take my pills without food. We hear the meeting. We leave. .5 mile away from dropping him off I start to get this new feeling, what I like to call "Dosed."
My bodily functions lack of sugar, my vision is tunnell and arms, eyes heavily, thoughts slow. Speech is slow. This goes on for that mile stretch I cannot drive straight. I'm almost drunk. Heavy eye-lids. Slurred speech. Tunnel vision all around me. I pull over right away and dial my mom. Look by my neck slouches over and I see the big M. thank god for mcdonalds. I walk up doors locked I look in. I look at my phone. It's 9:59. I softy project "I still have one minute" Blindly leading up to the unlocking of the door. Wouldnt let me walk to the ALL-NIGHT drive through to get some food. (* At this point i would like to say, I am presenting a speech in my class about bipolar. and I want to release this astigmatism.*) As i am sitting there phone in hand. i AM arguing, I can't operate a vehicle. All they see a greasy hair mid-2o's junkie asking for trouble'
At this point the first thing that popped into my head was "I'm diabetic." My mom still on the phone hearing this ordeal. so said Claira the pretty,drive through girl, who kindly denied others my attempt to "Rob Them." This white woman came and argued "You cannot walk to the drive through, you must Drive a Vehicle!" I said look at me: I cannot talk. "Please can i just order something anything." "A saint in a blue and white dress, the lady comes back with medium orange juice. "I godbless her. Got in the car chugging the bottle like the antidote to aids was in-it.
Charging like a battery. I drive my car to the drive through window and get my meal, end of story. The 'dosed' feeling never fully cleared; But my Life was saved by a few special people.
At the end of this i told J. I after this week, trying to congnatize the fact that I am unstable-in-mania, changing meds, un-responcible, and neglective of my health a majority of the time. But I had a sponsor, p-doc, and a s-doc.
"you cant help someone till you help yourself." - Notorious L.I.Z.
I am grateful for witnessing the peace in turmoil.
weather it be, at a light where a passenger in agony, a boy screams "MOTHER FUCKER" directed at me. Or in crisis.
I am grateful to give thanks in moments of clairty.
My mother and the joy that it gives Andy.
I am gggggg-Fg-unity. So thanks to my possey.
All my friends, family, and lovers ;)
|(perchlingenbach,noone,devonthompson,bonnie,chrisdavey
Playing T-Ball - someone who pees his pants and cries for his mommy as soon as he touched down in Saigon
Murked - to be Murdered| merced |
mince
-(v.) (perj.) To move or act in a way that implies homosexuality.
bro it up - hangout, get together
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