Hey there friends. In the past, I haven't been shy about talking about my bipolar II, my near constant depression, and anxiety. Writing about my experiences has been a mixed bag. Sometimes I feel I am reveling too much and that I'm embarrassing myself. Then there are times when people reach out and thank me for being honest about my mental health struggles. Some folks find comfort or solidarity in the stuff I write and that's good, because that's my hope and intention. I've been mostly silent though about this most recent episode. It's been so dire I felt foolish discussing it much. It just felt too big to be real. I worried that people would think I was being overly dramatic. I have been tempted to dump it all out there like a bag of old garbage, but I though, who needs that. And frankly, at a certain point it felt like who cares, why bother, it's all a load of shit and in the long run, who gives a fuck. At this point though, I feel like I owe...
"You say weird like it's a bad thing."