Answer me this:
Which is worse? Having a mental illness tied down but still barking and snapping in your mind?
Or living with a person with a mental illness running rampant and loose and cruel?
The fact that the latter has overrun the former for me is a sad, sad state of affairs… And I loathe it with a contempt that is nearly comical in its fever.
And see? It’s made me all wordy and morose.
Pardon today’s blog. I plan to gouge it out of my memory with fingernails and forks.