Bipolar Diary: Disturbia

Image by Francesco Tino

The crickets chorus as the day slowly turns into night.

Yes, another day has gone by and ended

And yet here I sit and lazed about.

Hiding in the corners and finding comfort in the shadows.

At ease when where, none can see me.

This made me realized,

That perhaps I really am unwell

again.



Anxiety engulfs me with every opening of the door.

And every stare you give me is my paranoia.

“What are they thinking?”

“What are they saying behind my back?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

I’m screaming with all of my might

But no sound will come out.

Does anybody feel my inaudible cry?



I feel as if I’m faulted and my innocence is rotten.

I am disgusted with myself

For I see nothing good in me

I am worthless
I am unreal.

I am strange.

I am not normal.

Someone, tell me that I’m wrong.



I’m tired of running already.

I’m tired of running from myself.

I’m tired of being scared for reasons that no one understands.

I’m tired of being misunderstood.

And I’m tired of myself.

I just want to fly away to a place where I can be at peace.

To a place where there’s no disorder;

To a place where I have no disorder.

To a place where I can finally be the real me.



Please, someone, save me from myself.