Born Under A Bad Sign

Well, today is my birthday. Number 46. I'd planned on writing a long, reflective post today on some things I am truly bitter about as regards my experiences with being dubbed bipolar and going through psychiatry's big old meat grinder for 18 years when it possibly wasn't even justified. Despite the fact that some of you have written me directly to wonder why I don't fit the usual profile of the angry patient--ie, alleging that psychiatry is criminal and arguing for criminal trials for all pharma execs--there are indeed some things that piss me off mightily about my experiences and I was going to get into all of that and embiggen the hearts of one and all.

But, as I was settling down to write this evening, I was hit with yet another round of bad career news. I am simply too frustrated to write this evening.

I hope you all have a more enjoyable day than I am going to have.

BTW, comments are closed on this post and please don't send me email. While I appreciate your kind thoughts in advance, this is simply one day in my life when I need to be left alone.