More Trauma At The Funeral

Posted by Bobby Jenkins | Nov 21, 2018 | Bipolar Disorder, Bobby Jenkins: The Diary of a Bipolar Bear, Identity | 0 |

Sept. 2, 2016

Dearest Diary,

Ativan! The love of my life I have found you! 

Omg fuck my family – I have a superpower now! I will never let you go my magical little chill pill of love. 

I had assumed that I would be traumatized by my aunt Diana’s  funeral. Death is hard, and she was my favourite aunt. 

So I took half an Ativan to feel unbothered.

But my GAHD is my cousin a crackhead. The punchlines were so frequent I laughed out loud at least twice during the Eulogy. Sometimes Ativan works too well. 

And sometimes when your sister is spitting a cocktail through her nose in shock- you just can’t refrain from laughing at it. Or empathizing with, really. 

Fresh from jail and wearing a wig (A terrible, terrible wig. What respectable bear wears a bright yellow wig to a funeral/out in public/a family event) she was full of one liners and massively inappropriate conversation starters.. 

Such as how her “husband” died (he was a piece of shit and OD’d on some Colombian Mackerel and they dated for a few months) and how she “laid on her back so many times” that she could afford rent and will keep “Lying down” for some air conditioning to keep her glacier from melting. AT! A! FUNERAL!!!!!! Bless Ativan. 

Her subtle volume could equate to her having a fucking megaphone and the topics sounded like they were picked by Evangelicals at a Planned Parenthood Protest. In-a-fucking-propriate and cringe-worthy at best.

She was incessantly screaming about how her parents (who wouldn’t even make eye contact with her at the busy family function) wouldn’t bail her out the THIRD time (girl, chill. They’re still talking to you after 3 arrests) and how all her friends have abandoned her “that don’t sell Colombian Mackerel for her”. 

Nevermind the fact that it was held in a fish hut. A FISH HUT!? They were serving cold brews and pre-maid sangria cocktails. I shouldn’t drink on Ativan – but I only took a half for the occasion so the Sangria was truly free-flowing.

My farmer uncle said he brought me carrots to eat (which is somehow a luxury in the arctic because they cost 3x more than anywhere in Canada) because he heard that I was a “fucking vegan” and said “that’s cool. But you’re gay too? I’d say pick one.” I love Uncles. 

As I said bye to my cousin, she said she was gonna go “fishing” in the parking lot. (WUT?). Then she went and robbed the back of transport trucks at her Aunts funeral. WHAT! A! TREAT!

I know that I have mental health issues. But since taking pills, my tolerance for Crazy has gone way down.

It’s terrible, but I have more trauma from my Aunt’s funeral than her actually dying. And her death was traumatic for me (My only cool aunt! She swore! And hit people!)

Her last words that she whispered to me on her death bed were “Behave Bobby” (with a devious smile )and I said “Never!” (because that was how I relationship was) then she squeezed my hand and I kissed her forehead while my cousin RUINED THIS FUCKING MOMENT by trying to steal jewelry from her bedside. Yep. She literally “stole” my last moments with her. Fucking Mackheads. 

Oh, family…..

If you or a loved one you know battles with Bipolar Disorder or any Mental Health Issues, please do get the help you need. If you need to talk to someone now, you can talk to one of the many fantastic therapists at Better Help by CLICKING HERE.


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