Police Report

I stayed in the hospital for 10 days.  HCPC is a good place.

In my own defense, I have a 125 IQ according to some free online test I took the other day and have little to no appreciation for cops showing up at my house as I innocently vent my frustrations about life to the wind, then swiftly into my house once they rolled up as per call from neighborhood passersby undoubtedly. 

The average IQ is 90, in case you weren't aware. Iam technically gifted, as well as talented but I'm no Einstein (162). I sawsed all over the cops and used words like "fuckery," which one of them kept repeating to himself, bemused. My point is, this could happen to anyone, and the suburbs are basically hell. 

My mother takes pain meds because of a botched back surgery in 2009. It's not her fault whatsoever, in case you were wondering about that one. 

I am sometimes resentful towards her for originally suggesting antidepressants for me back in 2008 when I medically withdrew from Southwestern University and was sleeping for sixteen hours a day, contemplating suicide because I felt like a failure truly for the first time in my high strung life. 

To be completely honest, I am at the core, a private person. It takes everything I've got to shun the shame of putting all this information out there in the public eye, but I feel as if it's my one shot at redeeming myself to my friends and loved ones. 

I am a born writer, have been doing so since I could hold a pencil and I just want to say that I'm sorry for all the pain and worry my condition has caused the ones who have cared for me the most throughout my short life. 

Dr. Trott at HCPC believes I may have a condition called HASHIMOTOS THYROIDITIS, which explains my severe bouts of depression. Depression has also been linked to gut rot, and I was hospitalized in the intensive care unit at Texas Children's hospital in 2005 due to a sickness related to e.coli poisoning called Shigella. It was so bad they gave me morphine. I lost 10 pounds in 4 days and almost died. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hashimoto%27s_thyroiditis

The struggle is real, y'all. As a perfectionist and a deceptively anal control freak type, despite my flighty, hippy dippy appearance at times, in the ephemeral words of Papa Roach "My weakness is that I care too much."