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.
My plan was to take a whole heap of valium and wade out into the sea until it became so deep that I’d need to swim. To swim as far as I possibly could, until exhaustion and the valium kicked in. I wanted to drown. I wanted to die.
The emotional weighing scales in my DNA seem to self calibrate of their own free will. And living with bipolar inexplicably grants these scales permission to tip at any given time.