This the script with no in fade. This the tale with no once upon a time. This the story with no true start, the story of my grueling climb. - I had not - for so, so long - been fully sane and would not feel fully sane for far longer. I was not yet able to take a drink when I first heard Death’s frightful song - It was my final year of college - or the final it was supposed to be - When my illness sank its fangs into my head. When the mania nearly meant the end of me. - Problems lay dormant for decades and troubled me when I needed peace most. At the age when I’d normally be dating, it seemed as if solitude was to be my perpetual post. - I had not been happy for some months but always thought I was just lonely. I was evading any treatment and concern, all the while growing ghastly. - I left school with just three courses left to find my peace at home. Much to my chagrin, every problem and symptom still shone. - I once again tried to ignore them and tried to hide myself away. I threw myself into games and drugs, anything to push pain to the fray. - It worked for a few weeks, but as soon as I was alone it ended. I was thrown back into despair, confident my use had been expended. - With no hope left for the future, I set out to die by rope. The only pause was for my mother but I was too far down the *****. - Luckily, the rope lost its hold on me shortly after I passed out. I woke up on the floor - knot still around me - and was apathetic towards this rout. - Upon awakening the next day, I decided I should finally find help. My lack of regret seemed strange, and motivated me to - finally - pursue my health. - Through a painful, month-long process I found the answers I so desperately needed. Bipolar was - and still is - shocking. I had no idea how deep its fangs were truly seeded. - I may be back in the real world now, but my recovery is not over. I have my answers and the medicine to heal me but I’m still haunted by the things that were. - I will continue to work for a better tomorrow. I will continue helping those like me. I will forget the things that were and take joy in things yet to be. - To my brothers and sisters in pain: You are not alone and your illness is not you. I know you feel forlorn, but your health you must pursue. - It is never easy for us to seek help, our problems we think can solve themselves. It is okay to find support. We must stop retreating into our shells. - The more of us that open up, the less of us that feel alone. We all have similar issues and only we can let health be sown. - Love your brothers. Love your sisters. Love your enemies. Love your neighbors. But please - above all else - Love yourselves.