I am not bipolar and yet I am. I carry it with me everywhere. I am at the top of the slide, the breeze hitting my face along with happiness, whipping my hair around, lacing my whole being with joy and pure euphoria.

I slip, I slip so hard and fast, it hurts, everything hurts and I’m at the very bottom, too weak to move, everything is pointless.

I climb, more like fly to the top, it’s unexpected, more like I blasted there, maybe im stable but consequences are always definite.