On Tuesday, the psychiatrist doubled my mood stabilizers. Yep, doubled em'. I am that fucked up. And here's the problem: Until the lamotringe and abilify even me out I am a teary mess. The extra chemical soup swimming through my veins amplifies everything: Love, Passion, Fear, and Despair blare from my person hitting innocent bystanders and deserving bastards, alike. It scares me. The veil that is suppose to keep our hearts hidden has been torn away for the time. I am vulnerable. Its a dangerous place to be. What if I let something big slip? What if I say everything I am feeling? The consequences could be dire. "I fell into a burnin' ring of fire."