Wherever you are in this crazy planet of ours my homies and homettes, good morning, good afternoon, good evening or good night. Enjoy it to the fullest and don’t let nobody fuck it up for you no matter what goes down.
As for me? Yesterday I left a voicemail for my shrink Dr. C, because I haven’t seen him in 1 year… OK! OK! OK! OK! OK! Since December of 2018, but in my twisted mind, that equates to 1 year, because we are already in 2019. I haven’t seen him in a while, because between my mother in law’s kidney transplant, my rectal bleeding, colonoscopy and weekend binge drinking, I just couldn’t squeeze him into my super-duper busy schedule. Daaaaamn! For a minute there, I felt as if I was a very important individual. WOW!
Well, I know that I won’t hear from Dr. C anytime soon, because his message said, that he will be back sometime next week. Who knows, he’s probably somewhere in Las Vegas getting drunk as fuck, gambling my money away and spending it on hookers. Then he’s going to come back and tell me, how I should get my shit together and stop drinking. Hey, as long as I have enough crazy meds, I’m OK with that. Plus, when he gets back, my shrink might have to talk to his shrink, about his drinking, gambling and sex addiction. Who knows, we might become drinking buddies and go out drinking after each session.
What up! What up! What up my homies and homettes! On a crazy note, not for nothing, throughout the years, I have met, seen and heard of people who just love to use their mental disorders to get away with murder. In other words, they do illegal shit, then when they get busted, they say that they did what they did, only because they are off of their crazy meds and or because they are “crazy”. Hey look my peeps, for one reason or another, as far back as I can remember, because of my crazy thoughts and behavior, I always knew that there was something wrong with me, I just didn’t know what it was. The one thing that I can assure you is, that I never hurt anyone or committed any crime, even though I grew up in what was considered back in the 80’s, as one of New York City’s worst neighborhood, Washington Heights.
What annoys the living shit out of me is, that even though I was diagnosed as suffering from Bipolar II disorder, OCD and Social Anxiety and taking my crazy meds everyday. From Monday to Friday, I still wake up at 5:00 am, head on out to the salt mines and do my job for 8 hours. I’ve never used the mental illness bullshit story, to get out of anything. The way that I see it is, that if I fuck up, I fuck up because I was a dumbass or an idiot, not because of my mental disorders. My thing is, that if you are going to act crazy, at least do a good job.