I have to choose between Chelsie and The Mystery Girl.
Two sisters alike in destiny and love.
Now I know how Hamilton felt with Eliza and Angelica.
I have a type. How do I choose between my first queer love and the girl I met a few months ago? I don't know what the right decision is.
Normally I let my heart decide and now even my heart is confused.

I own My Madness not the other way around. It doesn't control me anymore. I am medicated with prescribed by psychiatrist, drugs. I am still trying to find the right therapist.
My Madness is why I write. There is no other way to explain it. I remember when I was in my psychosis I called myself, Eurosia.
Bouncing between that personality and my usual personality was rough on me. I didn't want my name when I was in my psychosis.
I thought it told myself my name is Eurosia it would erase my dramatic, emotionally charged messy past but I was still me, Brandi the Brave. The girl who became a perfectionist at eleven.
My Madness drove me to do crazy things for love and validation. I never scared anyone more than the people I fell for. Slowly over time my love for people became platonic, romantic, and familial. I trained myself to bring myself back to reality by listening to music and counting past ten when it got too wild even for me.
My Madness made me the talk of the town ever since I was 7 years old. Being labeled mentally disabled used to make me feel worthless then I realized it meant I had to learn at my own rate however fast or slow.
My Madness, my cross to bear.

It's my birthday today all want to do is see how my girl is.
It's my birthday and she gave me a love confession after all these years.
It's my birthday and I want to hug her even though she is my ex-girlfriend.
It's my birthday and she touched my heart again. I am not angry well I am insane. She brought out the best in me.
It's my birthday and want to spend the day in the mental hospital to see her.

A name as powerful as my own. The girl who stole my pride, broke my heart and took my virginity. She drove me mad and read all of my poetry from my journals and notebooks. I didn't mind. She had me at we how gazed at each other.
She wanted me for my charm, talent and heart. She used to sleep with me in my bed to comfort me on my worst nights. She made me the legend of my hometown. She did research on my past and loved me.
She was my muse. I forgive her, I just don't forget. She called a day ago. Telling me that I was never an ******* to her, that I was her best lover out of all of her girlfriends, that I should update my voicemail and that she hopes that I live a happy life with her older sister. Also that she misses me. I still miss her and I don't regret anything. I knew I recognized those blue eyes from somewhere its genic.
She is in a psychiatric hospital right now. I never knew how insecure she felt about her own voice until I heard her have a meltdown on my phone. I want to visit her but I don't know where she is. Deep down I know she is my best friend and I don't know maybe it the fact that made me feel wild without doing anything. She touched my heart so she is worth it. I know that I just hope she does too. She is still human. She is still my girl even with all that madness.

Young people chattering in Coffee Boy's coffee shop wondering who I am and glancing at me as though I am some sort of wonder.
While I drink my cold brew with vanilla sweet cream. I knew they were talking about because everyone couldn't stop looking at me and I have sensitive ears. Ever since I broke things off with my ex-boyfriend I seem to be the talk of the town. Coffee Boy is happy that I am coming back to his coffee shop. We are good friends, Coffee Boy and I. Coffee Boy never really liked my ex-boyfriend sure he joked with us about him and I hanging out as friends. But when I explained things to Coffee Boy he understood. My ex-boyfriend Ken hated everyone including his own family. I didn't like how obsessed Ken was with me. Coffee Boy always respected me and valued my creativity. Ken called the coffee shop seeing how I was and Coffee Boy told him not to come because I was there.

Depression to me is dying while still living.
Depression to me is forgetting to shower and sleeping too much.
Depression to me is eating too much then throwing up my dinner or eating too little and starving myself to relieve the guilt.
Depression to me is writing to find worth in work in myself.
Depression to me is crying into my pillow to muffle the noise so no one listens to me and reliving flashbacks in my mind.
Depression to me is having the world spinning beneath my feet and not remembering my name.
Depression to me is not being able to breathe and counting to ten.

They have supported my creative ambitions since I was best friends with their daughter Kalie. Her family became my family when we loss her. I didn't I would come back from that. I didn't think I would come back from losing her my best friend. The one person who understood me in this **** Christian town.
Kalie knew before I did that I am a good writer. She told her family about my stories and poems. She believed in me before I did.
She loved me before I did. She accepted me before I did.
She knew me better than anyone else in this cold, stuck up small town. And I fell in love with her with every ounce of my being.
Most people knew we were best friends because of how we looked at each other. We were so close that people could hardly tell where one personality began and which personality ended. Every time she came back for me I knew I would always remember her. No matter how hard life got without her I knew from heaven how she wanted me to live my life. I was so depressed without her in my life that barely ate anything and slept too much. At one point I attempted to **** myself.
I went to the school counselor more often that Kalie was gone. I knew each time I felt bad to go to the counselor because it was a reflex for me. I always gone into therapy from speech to reading. I grew up depending on therapists for my mental disabilities because I couldn't control myself. I was labeled a special needs kid and mentally disabled. I accepted it.

When I read whether it's non-fiction or fiction I analyze it from a writer's perspective. I am studying my life because there is so much I don't know and I am always curious.
Every book I read I learn more about myself. I enjoy reading about mental illnesses. I am learning so much that I can't stop writing poetry. I am processing, healing and growing.
It's like digging deeper within to find what I can live without.

I knew when I was younger that I wasn't straight because I had crushes on both boys and girls. I repeatedly fell for my best friends, they were different people.
I knew when I was younger that my brain overstimulated itself a lot making me crazy and openly expressing myself in the only way I knew how by writing every feeling in a journal. The journals added up over the years that labeled me a writer and a poet. Those are the labels I accept about myself.
I knew when I was younger that I could process a lot of things faster than the rest of the kids my age labeling me "mature for my age". I have always been told that I am a good writer and it took awhile to accept the praises I would get for my poetry. Every time someone would give me a compliment me, my mind would go blank and my little sister would thank them for me.
I knew when I was younger that I didn't care what people thought of me. My mom didn't like that so she always told me how to dress right, how to speak right, how to act right and how to be polite. I was raised in a church where being different was frowned upon. I pretended that I didn't feel lonely. I pretended that didn't feel oppressed for being me. I didn't care about talking to other church members because I don't trust anyone that I don't know.

Trusting isn't easy for me. Every time I ever trusted someone I always got hurt. The few I do trust is only under the conditions that they won't fail me.
Trusting isn't easy for me. It takes longer for me to trust people because I don't want to have my heart broken again. I have had my heart broken more times by the people I trusted the most than the people who I once considered my enemies.
Trusting isn't easy for me. I don't like blending into the background. I enjoy being the weird one. I care about people unconditionally and without expecting anything in return because I don't want to be like my mother who have conditions for everything.
Trusting isn't easy for me. I don't care about what people think of me.
When I trust someone it's out of vulnerability not out of faith.
Faith can fade away, vulnerability doesn't. When you share your story it's out of vulnerability. I don't have faith in most people. I lost my faith in people when my best friend rejected me for being bisexual. I still talk to her but it's only out of us being music partners. I still want to write songs and create something amazing.

I am not limited by my past because I am more me than I once was.
I am not limited by who I once was in my past. All of who I once are not me anymore. I am not shy anymore. I am not scared of who I am anymore. I am not passive about my life anymore.
I am not lonely anymore. I am not alone anymore. I am not a victim of abuse anymore. I am not the crazy lovesick girl anymore. I am not the misfit loner anymore.
I have good friends and a great family. I have people who understand and accept me for who I am. I know that I am not my mental illnesses but still me because I figured out how to be insane and me without losing who I am to the madness.

Sensitive to light, sometimes too bright or not bright enough.
Sensitive to sound, sometimes too loud or too quiet.
Sensitive to my emotions, feeling everything intensely or not at all.
Sensitive to my mental state, panic attacks feels like dying and overthinking feels like rushing through every emotion in reckless abandon.
I am a highly sensitive person and I know what I want out of life.
Being sensitive is my superpower because I know what to expect from people.

My life is bittersweet like coffee.
I have a lot of good memories and a lot of bad memories.
I loss my most of my grandparents when I was younger.
I loss my best friend when I was 15 years old.
I got into an emotionally abusive friendship at 18 years old.
It took 4 years for me to build the courage to get out of that emotionally abusive friendship.
When I loss my best friend I was afraid to love again because the grief swallowed me whole. I didn't think I could bounce back from that but I did because I expressed and spoke about my emotions openly.
When I got into that emotionally abusive friendship I felt trapped as though no one could understand. That traumatic bond I had with my ex boyfriend wasn't worth how awful he treated me. That traumatic bond wasn't worth how unhappy I was with him.
I didn't think I could recover from that but I did.
When I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia at 20 years old because of my psychosis I didn't think I could get back to myself but I did.
Life Considered it is pretty good. I experienced a lot through out the years and I am still me.

Last night I had a panic attack. The Mystery Girl saw me have a panic attack. She said, "Everything is okay. I am not going to hurt you." My heart slowed down a little at the sound of her voice.
She said, "Don't worry I will ask you out another time." So I still have a chance to be with her. I still have hope.
I am still sore from that panic attack. I was visibly shaking and my hands were trembling. I couldn't breathe. It was as if my lungs forgot how to circulate air in them and my heart couldn't stop pounding against my chest.

The Mystery Girl wanted to ask for my number the day before Valentine's Day. I kept staring at her and no words would come out of my mouth. She kept blushing because she kept noticing me staring.
I just get so nervous around her I forget what to do.
She is so beautiful and vocal about her feelings for me that I am left speechless.

It's the bonded trust and the dysfunction.
It's fighting over stupid stuff. It's stealing clothes from each other's dresser. It's telling truths and accepting each other.
It's celebrating birthdays together and playing board games on holidays.

The conversations. The casual exchange of numbers.
The smiles and laughter. The shared glances.
Swapping stories and fun reactions.

I was used to being wooed by my ex-boyfriend. He wanted my heart but I wanted friendship. He wooed me with books, a t-shirt, roses and Pegasus fudge even coffee yet I never changed my mind.
I was adamant that my heart didn't belong to him. He hated that so he constantly insulted me, called me a ***** and a **** for his own pleasure. The more I faded away from him the more he begged for my heart to be his. I said no to his half-assed proposals, his demeaning love confessions, his wants of *** and his desire to be more than friends because I deserve true love.
There was no spark and no warmth.
It's my first year of not being wooed by him.
It's my first year without him. I am content without him. I am happy without him. I am me without him.

The Desire to kiss her.
The Desire to know her.
The Desire to be with her.
The Desire to prove the world wrong show people what true love really is.
Love is without gender roles. Love without hidden agendas. Love without regard to ability. Love is about effort. Love is about being a dork to voice intentions. Love is about stepping outside the comfortable to do something idiotic for the purpose of selfless courage.
Love is like magic it always comes at a cost. Love isn't easy because if love was easy everyone would have it but they don't.
Love requires loyalty, your broken self, honesty, authenticity, good communication, vulnerability, accountability and the truth of your feelings.

Day one, surrounded by family members who tested positive for COVID.
Day two, read an article the mentally ill being at high risk and freaking out then read an article about vitamin D deficiency which freaked me out even more. Went to the grocery store and bought vitamin D3. Calmed down a little.
Day three, fatigued and had an headache. Took a nap then started sneezing a lot. My mom got worried about me because she tested positive for COVID.
Day four, I developed a sore throat and everything seemed louder than normal. I tested positive for COVID. I called my boss and told her I couldn't work tomorrow.
Day five, I started coughing and my lungs felt like someone scooped my insides with a spoon vigorously.
Day six, all of my muscles were aching and my nose was running.
Day seven, I never got a temperature just my body tempt going up and down basically shivering to overheating.
Day eight, headache gone and muscle aches gone. Started breathing better.
Day nine, took a nap and felt a little better.
I feel better my nose is running less each day and coughing hurts less. I am not contagious anymore.

I have been manic and I have been depressive meaning bipolar.
My manic episodes were like drinking a lot of coffee, just this feeling of happiness and doing stupid stuff.
My depressive episodes were as though I was drowning in my own emotions. Anger felt like a raging wildfire and sadness felt like drowning while on land.
I have a split mind too meaning schizophrenia.
I know what it is like to be so paranoid that dissociating is natural when it gets worst. I know what it like to hear things that aren't there, to feel things that aren't happening, to go on nights without sleeping, to think impossible thoughts yet live through all that and be a warrior.
My psychosis was awful because my anxiety mixed both of those together to create months I can't remember since I have been medicated for 2 years now and my psychiatrist is the best.
I know that I didn't hurt anyone just scared a lot of people.

Considering I am writing a new chapter of my life. I enjoy the freedom from his world. I like this new me.
I can be whatever I want. So I am going to be me. Brave, kind, sweet, hopeful, intelligent and the girl worth remembering.
Sure I am damaged, rebellious, traumatized and full of scars yet being brokenhearted is why I shine so brightly.

She works with me and we have known each other for years.
Not much have changed. She is still her and I am still me. I mean that in the best way possible. I make her laugh and she makes me laugh.
We always hung out with mutual friends. She is my Friend from the Past. We vibe at a positive frequency. I really don't know hip slang.
She is funny, smart, beautiful and trustworthy.

The Mystery Girl really likes me and I really like her.
Those dark blue eyes and how the fire inside of me seems to burn brighter when I am around her.
I forget how speak when I am around her. It's like this warm spreads across my body then my mind goes blank. My heart beats faster when I am around her and my pulse rushes a mile a minute.
I tend to lose myself in her eyes then it feels like it's just her and I. Now I just need the courage to ask for her number or give her mine.

It was 3 years ago. It was a night of passion.
My lips collided with hers and the world slipped away.
Ripping off each other's clothes.
Loving gazes and joyous smiles. Skin again skin. Soul against soul.
Every kiss in effortless abandonment of what is and what was.
That Night with Her was the best night of my life.

Here's to Love that one day I will someday find my true love in a forever.
Here's to Love that one day I will have more friends that I trust and stay by my side.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be alone anymore.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be trapped in someone else's world ever again.
Here's to Love in hopes that I won't be lost ever again.
Here's to Love that one day I will listen to my instincts and learn to walk away at the first red flag.
Here's to Love that one day things will change.

I was lost in his darkness drowning in his manipulation.
I was lost because he was a hurting soul and I thought I could help little did I know that I would be trapped.
I was lost in his begging of me to be his best friend.
I was lost in the connection that he convinced me that we had.
I was lost in his calculating nature and beastly ways.
I was lost in his proving that we could be more than friends by spoiling me to make me forget how awful of a person he was.
I was lost to his constant wanting to control me.
I was lost to his blue green eyes and trying to get him into therapy.
I was lost to recommending self-help books to him.
I was lost to him blowing up my phone with texts and memes that I didn't care for.
I was lost to him as a narcissistic man because of my empathetic soul but I didn't lose everything.
I was lost but in the end I found myself because of that I am rebuilding my world.

I am Taking chances to figure out who from my work I feel comfortable trusting.
I am Taking chances because I know eventually I have to get out there. I can't spend life alone forever.
I am Taking chances because I am fearless and brave. I am who I am and no one can ever change that.
I am Taking chances because I know someone out there will value who I am.

Her eyes as blue as the skies on a stormy day.
Her lips as red as a rose.
Though I don't know her name I have already fallen for this mystery girl.

My mind blocks out the traumatizing memories of spending with him. My heart reminds me how there was no good times with him.
His love wasn't consistent. And every time he said he cared about me I knew it wasn't true.
What is left of me is my gentle touch and kind smile.
To him there was no good in the world. To him I was a deity no matter how many times I revealed my flaws. To him my mistakes were for mocking and who I fell for were illusions because they weren't him.
What is left of me is my dark humor and stubbornness.

I am Thinking About how I don't have to rush into close friendships or romance. I am Thinking About how I have choices now.
I am Thinking About how I am good at being alone because I don't feel lonely anymore since I know who I am.
I am Thinking About how reading comforts me and writing brings out my emotions. I am Thinking About how many times I get tempted to contact him I remember the ways he damaged me and I stop myself. I am Thinking About how grateful my realizations saved me in the end. I am Thinking About how concerned my mom got when I told her the truth and how she defended my actions.
I am Thinking About how proud my psychiatrist was of me.
I am Thinking About how much I need a therapist because in all honesty after what I have been through talking to someone always helps.

Sometimes it's like I am restless. I read book after book. I don't know how to stay still. As though my thoughts are going a mile a minute.
Sometimes it's like times slows down. I like that I get time to myself.
Time to heal. Time to think.
Sometime it's like with all this happiness I want to do on adventures. I want to get out of this town for a little while. I want to get out of my head.
Sometimes it's like I don't know where to start. I am afraid to trust people.

Truthfully alive and free. I rest easier. Everything tastes crisper than before.
Hanging out with my friends I don't feel like I am carrying a cloud over my head. I don't feel dead on the inside anymore. I am glad that I kicked him out of the door.
Truthfully I had to me. Around him I was bitter, depressed and angry. It was like his darkness swallowed me whole and left me empty. Now that my light is back I am picking up the pieces of me that he broke.
Truthfully it was living in a nightmare. I don't have to be there anymore. I don't have to be around him anymore and that's what matters.
Truthfully I am better.

I have things still to say to him. I have so many feelings unraveling.
I want to yell at him for manipulating me. I want to tell him how wrong it was for him to place his life in my hands as if I didn't have enough stress weighing on my shoulders. I want to tell him that he took my happiness away for 4 years. 4 years is too long to be unhappy and depressed. I am angry because I still have things to say.
I am angry that he made feel worthless. I am angry that he made me feel trapped for so long as if I had no choice in my life. I am angry that he thought that we were similar in any way, shape or form.

I finally said goodbye to my abusive ex boyfriend. It hard to fall asleep at night but eventually it will get easier. I have a fresh start.
I feel joyful again. I feel like me again and I haven't been me in a long time. I don't feel trapped in the routine of him and I. I forgot what it was like to be happy and excited to hangout with my real friends.
I forgot what it was like to be without him. Yes I am damaged but I am free. My mind feel clearer and my heart is full of light again.

I am saying goodbye to you in a gift. I will set you free. I am cutting the cord of this toxic connection. Your darkness and bitterness don't belong in my sweetness and light. Where I grow, you wither.
Where you see a forever, I see how doomed this friendship was from the beginning. Your emotional abuse, your mentally draining soul don't belong next to my kind, brave soul. I don't need you because I never did in the first place. You just convinced me that I did. I have a loving, dysfunctional family and amazing friends.
I don't need you degrading my little sister. I don't need you sexually harassing me. I don't need you begging for us to be more than friends. I don't need you depressing me with your trauma. I can't heal you and I can't help so you are hopeless.
So I am going to start the New Year off right by having my hope back.

This You Do not know I have the weight of the world bearing on my shoulders.
This You Do not know there is a pain bursting from my heart.
This You Do not know every breath is heavy as I am dying as I am living.
I am not a bitter person. I am not going to let you depress me.
I am not going to let you turn me into a monster like you.
You are a human leech ******* my light and energy. I will never date you.
This You Do not know I was never happy with you in the first place.
I regret meeting you. I regret being your friend.
Soon I will say good bye to you and eventually I will heal far away from you.

The Divide of you and me came gradually over the years.
You became a monster of your own making scarring me with trauma of you wanting to **** yourself when we got into fights, you obsessing over me and making me the reason for you to live.
This codependency I can't take it anymore.
I can't stand your sexist jokes, your pleading for us to be more than friends, you draining all of my mental energy, you thinking your better than everyone else and you repeatedly ignoring the fact that I would never be happy with you. I am one of the rare good humans.
I remember you being a sweet boy with bluish green eyes and now you are a shell of a man pining for me, a woman that will never love you the way you want me to.

You couldn't be happy for me because you wouldn't understand what it is like to be medicated for something you can't control.
You couldn't ask my mom what was wrong with me last summer because you are a coward.
You couldn't ask me this year even though I would have gave you the answers.
You couldn't stop thinking about yourself for one second to be concerned and see me for one day.
You are so used to icing people out and pushing people away when you don't realize that I am the only one left who cares about you.
You couldn't ask if I was okay because you are scared of me saying no.
I checked up on you everyday you were in the hospital but you never even wondered how I was. Time really does fades things that shouldn't matter.

Some Dreams are real and others are not.
It's the hard work and stepping out of one's self that people are afraid of.
Some Dreams are weird, new perspective with bizarre storytelling.
Some Dreams are straightforward and dizzying.
Dreams are interpreted in different people and different sources but some are so indescribable it's the question of reality and fantasy.

You Vanished without saying goodbye.
You Vanished as if nothing was left.
You Vanished and I miss you.
You Vanished and I want you to know that I am still here.
You Vanished and we are still friends.

People come with No Instructions. We simply know we are different.
People come with No Instructions. Yet people write different rules within each religion.
People come with No Instructions. Yet we have a government that is divided because we don't let moderates become president since the saying, "Majority rules and minority rights" been invented.
People come with No Instructions. If we considered the flaws of the generations of backwards thinking of letting men decide women's fate then there needs to be more progress.
People come with No Instructions. Change is inevitable the politicians   have to stop avoiding it.

To pursue love to find what is true is selfless devotion to one person for a lifetime. People nowadays don't believe in once in a lifetime love anymore because it's a fairytale to them.
To pursue love is saying the truth of the heart's desires and hoping the other person equally wants the same thing.
To pursue love is to go beyond kissing and handholding to writing letters even if you live in the same house together.
To pursue love is talk about someone as if they are the whole world and hope that you are their moon.
To pursue love is to act like an idiot no matter how many times you rehearse every word you are going to say.
To pursue love is to remember the small things are the big things.
To pursue love is present an idea so new to both of you that considering the future is a must.
To pursue love is be without lust because selfishness should have nothing to do with either of you.

Mind spinning
The dizziness of wanting to *****
Whole body feeling numb
Heart racing
Shallow breaths
Lungs in pain

We all live in the profound feelings and the unwavering declarations of the soul. That of which the mundane is another walk in the park.
There is nothing wrong with declarations or feelings but we live in the mundane world a majority of time.
That of which the park that where we all walk in is filled with past hurts, betrayals, past joys, grief, reality of your perspective and traumas. It's a bizarre park but the walk is part of the journey.
Walking through is better than running away. So walk through the park and become your better version of yourself since the profound are the breakthroughs.

My past may be tragic and I have a lot to deal with.
My split personality and manic depressive insanity is part of what makes me weird.
I grow from ashes of enemies fires because I don't repel my pain since running away doesn't help anyone including myself.
I am a lot to lose and a lot to gain. My past doesn't define me.
I focus on the future. I most importantly stay present.
I am a rebel with a fiery spirit because I rise despite the darkness that wants to destroy me.

If Love is a Measure then the world have fallen short because it is full of hate.
If Love is a Measure then envy is overflowing in people's hearts.
If Love is a Measure then selfishness is what people nowadays benefit from.
If Love is a Measure then divorce and cheating is happening more often in this world.
If Love is a Measure then unrequited love is devouring the hopeless.
If Love is a Measure then change must be required of the true to enact
as the guides of the lost.

Processing feelings is still Progress because the anger doesn't control you, the fear is created from your own mind, the sadness is real, the guilt and regret is opposite of peace and freedom.
Processing experiences is still Progress because wisdom comes from the most unusual of memories.
Processing beginnings is still Progress because at some point there is an end.
Processing endings is still Progress because truths can be found at what is left.
Processing the unknown is still Progress because that is where the courage starts.

Some say that Letting Go is easy. I am not referencing the song from Frozen. I mentioning the act of Letting Go of Pain and Suffering.
Letting Go of something that you think is suppose to be bounded to you. But your heart pleads no to holding onto the pain and the hurt.
The gut is out interrogating all the memories to see where the beginning. While the mind looks for what is left of the good moments. Letting Go of those guilty feelings and the regret feelings because those feelings shouldn't be there. When you love someone despite all of the gaslighting and abuse those feelings are inevitable.
But when you know you should Let Go of the pain because they no longer bring joy. Maybe it's the fear of losing the hint of anger.
Maybe it's the reminder that they don't control you anymore yet those feelings being present mean Letting Go since there is no memory to justify a victim taking the blame. Even if that victim is you build the courage and let go to find peace within. It isn't easy but the hardest things require the most bravery.

To feel weak, to feel tired, to be unbalanced from an unknown force and the pulsing in the gut.
It's a sleepy feeling as if the pain in the gut is dripping every ounce of energy through blood.
It's want to sleep for an eternity but stay awake so I don't miss anything.
Maybe it's because I had a panic attack yesterday.
Maybe it's the sugar cravings.
Maybe it's my mood swings being more restless than I am.
Maybe it's me being more weird if that's even possible.
It's strange being medicated when period cramps are present.
It's strange how my emotions feel stronger, sharper and more intense than usual.