Bipolar

At last a cure for Bipolar – marry yourself!

Kitty

It’s been sometime since I’ve blogged – let’s just say Bipolar kind of got in the way. And when I do I often harp on about the impact of relationships on the condition.

So imagine my joy when I suddenly came up with a brilliant condition curing idea – just marry yourself. No! no! no! – not that old chestnut about first loving yourself as the key to joy. Bear with me!

Imagine my female version as Kitty. If I was married to her I could really be myself – imagine!

Can’t be arsed going to work today Kitty.
Can’t say I blame you – let’s stay in bed and have sex all day, she replies

Of course in this world sex would be at will and always available, with no requirement for foreplay or cuddling afterwards: just a way of getting the ‘dirty water off your chest’

After sex I’d wander around bollock naked, slobber on the couch and Kitty would bring me chilled beers, stopping only to break wind as she bent down into the fridge.

Belching out loud would be natural and almost obligatory.

The dishes would pile up in the sink and no clothes would be ironed. Life would be fully liberated – for both Kit and Kitty, for she would share and bask in my devil may care approach whilst house and hearth would go to wrack and ruin.

There are times when all that would be bliss, and certainly it would take away so much stress – especially sweating – as they say – the small stuff.

There’d be no arguments about what holiday to go on, what programme to watch or what opinion to hold on politics. Agreement on everything – just perfect.

So there we have it, the solution psychologists have been seeking for 100 years – marry yourself. Just one question – how?

Damn !

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