My bipolar hat is constantly on. It’s more of a balaclava than a hat really – it’s not terribly fetching, it’s claustrophobic and annoying to wear, but happily, can be worn under other hats if that’s the kind of look you’re after.
To the outside world, they are shrouded in mystery. They are secretive and sinister institutes filled with dark, tormented souls. But are they really like that?
My self esteem was on the floor from constant rejection. I was tired of faking a smile. Tired of hiding my illness. Overwhelmed by everything.