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I had two weeks, maybe three or a month. Can’t remember, all I know is that, I could feel depression sneaking in the background. Behind trees, watching me as I took my daily walk. Hanging from the walls of my apartment and casting doubt into every action I made.

Then, like a genius, I added alcohol. I thought it would help me sleep. I slept worse. I stopped exercising for two days and now I’m exhausted. My body aches and all I want to do is to stay in bed.

Bed is my friend. It’s a good place. I can hide there, dream there, be there. But its empty. Apart from the stuffed animals. (Girl thing).

So now I wonder, how long will this last. It’s the closest I felt to being (cured) of BP in years. I know there is no cure, I know it’s an illness I have to deal with 24/7/365. I know this, its reality. But I felt good and I haven’t felt good in over 7 years. Arbitrary number, it could be more. You lose count. With all the med changes and hospitalizations and therapy and physical illnesses. Life becomes a blur and I already wear glasses.

Too much to do today and visitors tomorrow. Two doctors the next day and accompany my mom on Friday.

Then holiday week. Christmas, New Years Eve and New Years Day.

No parties, no presents, no invitations. But the world will continue with the process and I guess I will just “be”.

There are times when you think you’ve got it beat. Delusional. I guess I just have to be happy with what is offered and given to me.

I have to brush, floss, bathe, lotion, gargle, sleep. And what surrounds that, I guess its life.

My Mom had cancer, she’s 100% cancer free. But she’s still healing and it’s stressing. I don’t know how she took care of me when I was sick, so much worrying, stress and demands. I guess that’s why I’m barren. God knew I couldn’t handle children and BiPolar.

There are reasons I know nothing about.

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