if you look up the definition of “bipolar” in the dictionary, you’d find my mom’s name screaming loud and proud in big fat letters.
you can say you’re bipolar all you want,
think it’s a cute ******* self diagnosed disease you can use to explain your mood swings,
but you will never understand how terrifying it is.
when from one moment you can hold your mom’s hand and watch movies with her,
the next she’s screaming that she’s going to **** herself, a knife turning her knuckles white.
bipolar disorder isn’t a rom com where the sick gets better in a nice little mental hospital,
it’s a horror film filled with blood spatter scenes and a not so happy ending.
but the scariest part of it is that when you check the definition again,
you’ll slowly start to see my name appear.