Feathers
I truly hate being bipolar. That's a self-diagnosis, incidentally, not one given by the medical community. But from what I've read about it, it certainly seems clear enough. Though, nearly all I've read focusses on the manic end of it, not the depression. Pssh. All it seems I have are normal, and low. None of the "prolonged" periods of depression,
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*is feeling confused and uncertain, and slightly lost*
Nothing particularly new about that, though.
I don't belong anywhere, and I'm not looking for more.
Look for it. Please? Find something besides me that excites you and makes you happy and keeps you not-depressed. I'll be here for you, but there's more to life than that. Okay? Please?
I've had my own issues about finding my "meaning of life" recently, but in spite of that, with good friends here, good friends at home, books and movies to excite my mind and inspire my imagination and creativity, and the thought of everything that I have left to explore with the rest of my life, I manage to stay, for the most part, content and happy.
Hmm. Maybe I'll take you on that road trip with me after all.
*cuddle* *smooch*
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