• In my experience, I believe that the worst part about bipolar disorder is the fall.
    One second, everything is fine. You're happy, everything is great, and you feel like your life is really together. You're manic. Things make sense.

    Then you sink.

    You don't feel it happen until its happened. Your world crashes down and you feel nothing. Just emptiness. A hollow shell that you live in. It walks and talks like you. Eats, sleeps, goes to school, and does everything you do. But it's not you. You're not yourself.

    Then you rise.

    You'd like to think you're "back to normal", but its hard to tell which part of you is the REAL you: the manic side, or the depressed side. Is it both? Is it neither? Does that even matter?

    Even when you are back on top, there is always that thought. That nagging thought. That reminder. That voice. That dread of KNOWING that it's not gonna last. Every moment of happiness comes with anxiousness. "when is it gonna happen? When am I gonna sink? Tomorrow? Today? an hour? Right now?" You can't really tell until you feel it. Never knowing when it's gonna stop and start. It's always some sort of twisted game where the outcome is unpredictable. And the saddest part? All you can do is play. Because that's the only option you have.