Bipolar – coming out of my bipolar closet

I turned to drink and drugs. I lurched from one unhealthy relationship to the next, some of which were dangerously unhealthy. I came very close to ending my life.

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Bipolar – the hand of support

I was part of two worlds in that moment. I was that lost and desperately sad me from 10 years ago, but at the same time was my 43 year old self living a life. A real and meaningful life, where the coat of armour has been replaced with a useless rain mac, but one which allows the real world to seep into my soul.

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Bipolar – wreckless bipolar

I got tired of feeling physically unwell every day due to my excesses. I got tired of chasing happiness, when quite clearly I was like a thoroughbred galloping full pelt down the wrong racetrack, so was never in any danger of sprinting over the happiness finishing line.

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