SHERMIN LEE

 When I was in hospital (I've been in a total of 7 times IIRC), I met a hopeless young man who would lie on the floor all day. When his friend came to visit, he would lament that the place was hell to stay in and that he hated everyone here. He was generally very negative. I remember turning to him and saying 'give us a chance. You might end up having fun with the people here' or something to that effect. Same energy Lo and behold, fast forward a few years later and he's getting married to the love of his life, that he met in the very same hell he wasn't willing to give a chance to at first. They are madly in love and the happiest kids I know on Facebook. Now, fast forward a few years from when I first met them in a hopeless place, and I'm in the hospital again. This time, there is another blossoming romance. But alas, things never worked out because they both took their lives, one after the other.  Perhaps their lives would have been saved, if they had found so

 I am a result of the times I'm living in. I overeat and I have breakouts on my skin from stress.  Look at this Namibian woman with flawless skin and a healthy body. Now look at me and my obese ass sitting here writing this blog post. *SMDH

 I've been on meds for about close to 2 years now.  I used to have spurts of creativity, but ever since I got on my meds, I stopped having these highs, or manic episodes where I would write poems and posts. I can't say I miss being in the hospital too much. I like my freedom, and being in the hospital takes that away from me: no phone, no laptop, no way to contact the outside world. If I were to ever go back in, I'd borrow some books from the library before going to get admitted - mostly romantic type books. I may be bipolar, and the medication may be numbing, but at least I still have this platform, even if nobody is reading what I write. It's cathartic and therapeutic to get to write, almost like journaling, but public. If I were more able, I'd draw a nice cartoon to go along with this post. Maybe I'll give it a try: Ta-daa! I'm thankful for this laptop, it makes writing and drawing a breeze. I have my dad to thank. I still have all my loved ones with me..

 I'm happiest when I'm writing, because I feel productive. But when the dark thoughts assail me, I feel useless and start questioning my existence. The one passion I have is writing. Oh well, I have multiple interests: I like music, and to sing, too. I only wish for a way to turn my passions and play into something profitable.   I want to feel like my work means something; I want to be productive and love my work, too.