Alexandra F
Bio
I write to give myself an adventure & if it's fun perhaps you will enjoy it too.
This is the link to my journalistic blog: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/franklynews
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Stories (59/0)
My Crazy
I'm different. Not just quirky, not just funny, but severely different. The kind of different that would get me called crazy if I weren't on meds. I'm diagnosed with delusionoid schizophrenia, erotomania, agitative depression, uneven serotonin levels, borderline personality disorder. I agree on the borderline, the depression, and the uneven serotonin, but I disagree on the schizophrenia and erotomania. If I have erotomania, then every girl that's sexting does too. I know the ones I yell at aren't there. They're in my past and I regret what I didn't get to say to them.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Psyche
Imperfect
So, the football game was on last night. It was one my father just had to watch with the TVs on full blast (that’s right, two of them). His hearing’s bad and he refuses to wear a hearing aid, even one of those subtle ones that are flesh-colored. I closed the door to the office I was working in and managed to sneak my dinner in there too. One of the rules of the apartment is not to eat in the office, but I made an exception for myself since he was blasting the volume on the two TVs and I didn’t want the headache I’d surely get if I went out there to eat or if I left the door open.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Families
Organic Love (Continued)
A grin that makes me want to sit on it. He has one for when he’s making people laugh at something twisted, one for when he’s in the mood, the proud daddy smile that makes me want to hug him, the touched by love smile, the “she likes me” grin. He’s like a Leonard Hofstadter in being shy and making me make the first move. I don’t have that kind of confidence. I’m still the girl, at least I like being that, in making the first move. I like wearing the skirt in that.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Filthy
Job Success
Affirming to ourselves that we’ve gotten something done is good. It gives us something concrete to say to ourselves. We’re competent because we actually have proof via getting something accomplished. You can’t refute what you have proof of. It’s a positive feeling to know that one is competent and capable. I think that’s part of why we like having jobs, other than getting paid. Hopefully we also have jobs that are satisfying and fulfilling to us; careers.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Motivation
How It Feels to Be Feared
How it feels to be told your parents and others are afraid of you: not good. I’ve never even raised a hand to either of my mother’s nurses, but they’re scared of me. I’ve pushed my mother to the floor, but that was after she pushed me and I hadn’t anticipated she’d fall. I’ve raised an envelope opener to my father, but he’d pissed me off enough to do so. I’m not proud of any of this. I’d love to always be in control rather than in the throes of anger.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Psyche
Feeling Like a Burden
I feel like such a burden. I have my problems, my agitative depression, my uneven serotonin levels, my yelling in my room I try desperately to curb. I use humor, venting through writing, busying myself with tasks, focusing on the cuteness of my cat, crying it out, anything I can think of to stop myself from being this yelling monster that disturbs others by her yelling.
By Alexandra F6 years ago in Psyche