|Title:||Hoping for Apples|
The other day|
I woke up on the floor of a library, pages all around me, without any pants on.
I cannot say I know how I got there but I have a sneaking suspension as to why.
I remember looking around wondering why this was so peculiar. I could not comprehend why everyone around me was freaking out.
When you are diagnosed with type I bipolar disorder, you can find yourself in spaces like this more than you find spiders in a creepy house.
This means you are prone to have dissociative episodes, fall in love with hallucinations, experience mania, bipolar depression, delusions. Fun shit, am I right? It is a formula for creative genius and isolation!
To me, living with this disease is like trying to pluck each hair off my body with dull fingernails
Each attempt to understand it brings me a little closer to answers my sanity canít afford...