My name is Brielle, and I am… I am schi- uh this is kind of hard to say, literally and mentally. Though mentally I am not all there. I’m rambling again. Okay I’ll start again. *Takes a deep breath*
My name is Brielle, and I am schizophrenic. I have a voice living inside my head that tells me awful things, but it’s hard to decipher truth from lies. She says things that are true, and false. My name is Brielle and I am schizophrenic. It does not define who I am, because… because why? Oh because it’s not me. Just like if you had a parasite in your body and it made you act weird. Does the parasite represent who you are? No. My name is Brielle and I am schizophrenic. My psychiatrist forced me to whatever this is. I have to write about myself and how I’m dealing with being crazy. Her name is Amy and she has schizophrenia too, it’s the only reason I listen and actually like her, or else I would NOT be doing this. I will start this paragraph differently. I’m tired of writing the same sentence over again. So yeah… this is so boring. Why am I doing this? How is it helping? Ugh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Marcus, my boyfriend and Sophia, my best friend from the crazy people facility told me it would be good. Well you guys, it’s not. Goodnight. |
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