More musings from an armchair philosopher

There’s no reason not to believe in SOMETHING. Some people believe in love, some people believe in a god or source, some people believe in the paranormal. Maybe I need to watch the X-Files soon. πŸ€”

We are only distinguished by our mood.

1st Date Question: What do you BELIEVE in?
That’ll weed ’em all out, as per usual.

Why the FUCK haven’t I found love in over 3 years??? I have worked so hard, maybe TOO hard. I wish I wasn’t a “hopeless romantic” or even an INFJ sometimes. This life is not easy as far as real, soul love goes. The struggle is real.

I’ve been lonely my whole fucking life, with sprouts of social joy here and there but evidently my soul still pines.

Spirituality is for the hurting.

Just because I pine for love doesn’t mean I don’t work on myself every day!

I wanna fall in love with your weird.

Solidarity is survival.

Psychiatric medications are valuable because they’re a flotation device for higher thought processes. Without my medication, my defenses would be too weak and buried. No pill shaming.

Stay at a distance, thoughts, for I am conscious of your presence.

Alcohol turns the soul into a shell; opioids desensitize the soul; psychedelics open up the soul.

(wakes up)


When I was last at risk suicidal, I felt utterly alone, so I called out into my empty house. I listened and it told me to call my dad. You know what he said that changed my whole crisis level? He told me that you don’t know who you might meet tomorrow.

Tomorrow is another day.

Maybe it’s not that having Bipolar is a blessing, but that who I am inside is a blessing with the special effect Bipolar has on me.

My intuition has strengthened over the years; I no longer have friends that hurt me.

Someone once told me that perhaps in another quantum reality I have already had kids. πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™€οΈ

I’m beginning to realize that “I” am not sad; I “experience” sadness, but sadness isn’t the only thing I experience. How infrequent or how often should one experience sadness? There’s no shame in sadness. Some emotions hurt. But who said they weren’t supposed to?

When we were abandoned, we abandoned ourselves.

I’ve been through a lot of pain most of my life with mental illness.

It didn’t harden me.

I stayed soft.

I stayed true to myself, because myself is love.

And I choose love over and over.


4 thoughts on “More musings from an armchair philosopher

  1. Dang, Carrie! I too am a hopeless romantic, that feels as if it isn’t in the cards for me, due to being bipolar. I’m just trying each and every day trying to love myself, let alone anyone else.
    I’ll never forget on my way to the hospital to admit myself in due to my ongoing suicidal ideation, my Aunt (Moron, shall we) said to me while I was crying my eyes out… “You will never find a man that will put up with your mental illness, get used to being alone.”
    Nice, huh?
    Scrwe her and the broken ass horse that she rode in on. From that day forward, I never spoke to her again.

    Liked by 1 person

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