Fuck the system.

Here’s a little background information on me to help explain this post. I have issues with violence and anger management, linked to my anxiety and depression. When I feel trapped or cornered I hit things and people until everything backs off. Up until recently I have been on medication to reduce my anxiety and therefore avert violent episodes.
I came off those medications a few weeks ago.
I am angry now. I am full of mood swings and I want to stamp my foot, I’ve started shouting again when something pisses me off. Pretty soon I’ll start hitting stuff again. And you know what everyone says is the solution? “GO BACK ON THE MEDS”.
You know what? I don’t fucking want to. I don’t want who and what I am to be determined by pills and potions and doctors orders. Fuck that shit right up it’s hairy miserable ass crack. I am this. I am this person.
I’ve always struggled to control my temper, and being on the meds I just didn’t have a temper. I don’t want that. I WANT to get angry sometimes. I want to feel things. I want the chance to learn to control these emotions myself and sometimes I think my anger is goddamn justified.
Society tells us what is and what isn’t acceptable and I just could not give a flying monkeys anymore what society says. I can get angry sometimes I should be allowed to. Coming off of the pills has been like a slow wake up. I nearly drowned myself in mediocrity and normality.
I don’t want to fit in with the prescribed normal. That was never what I wanted.
I’ve let everything walk all over me. I’ve let society tell me that I’m quiet and reasonable and cool headed and passionless. But since I’ve been on the meds, I’ve hardly written anything (poetry, stories, etc) I’ve hardly picked up a paintbrush and lost myself in the joy of creating. I haven’t danced. I lost MYSELF all for the sake of fitting in and being normal. I could still see those things in myself but it was like looking through a glass wall. Now I just want to smash that wall down.
My passion and my drive comes at a price. It comes at the price of a temper and an irrationality,  a pirce of a little bit of selfishness and judgemental attributes. But you know what I’ve realised?
It’s fucking worth it.
I’ll be myself if it kills me. I will write and paint and dance and laugh. I will be myself again to the most that I can be. NOTHING and NOONE will stop be. Forget the system, forget normality, fuck it all. I’ll fight for the things I care about instead of the things that are “supposed” to matter. Because they don’t matter. They don’t make me happy. They just drown me.
Debbimouse, over and fucking out.

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