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.
More and more though, it’s thought that there’s a genetic link. That you are more likely to develop bipolar if a close family member has the condition. So what about MK? Does this mean he’s going to have to battle with his mind every single day in life in the way that I, and many others do?
Bipolar? You suck. You didn’t try to kill me with a devastating suicidal depression. You didn’t turn me into the invincible, wreckless hypomanic being you sometimes do. You just were. You played with me and seriously tainted yet another precious time in my life.
The running theme is that bipolar sucks. It seriously sucks. We are all battling like Mel Gibson in Braveheart with his painted face and bloody big shield to ward off the gremlin within us all. We are survivors.
The bottom line was though, if I didn’t take some kind of action, this was going to be the shortest marriage in history due to me being so poorly (and consequently, extremely difficult to live with).