The other day I told my dad I’ve been diagnosed as Bipolar Type 2 and he goes “so it’s kinda like being happy one second and sad the next right?” and the reason I’m writing this post is that no, it’s not.
Being bipolar is like being stuck on a roller coaster. You get to the top and do some sick ass loop de loops. They’re actually kinda fun at first. Then when you hit another peak, the ride jerks to a halt.
You look down and see an endless pit. You don’t know when the coaster will fall. You just do…
It teeter totters for a bit.
You free fall. It’s dark and suffocating. You go through more loop de loops but these ones are under ground, you can’t see the sky anymore. Time stops.
After what feels like an eternity of darkness, you see sunlight. It feels far away but finally you reach the surface again.
The ride finally comes to a stop at the beginning. As you try to exit the car the operator gives you a smug look and starts it over again.
Being bipolar is more like this.