Sometimes I feel like one day I will find out that one of the many times I thought about killing myself, I actually did it, and this whole reality is some sort of sick hell I trapped myself in.
Yesterday was hard for me. I dunno why.
That’s the thing about being bipolar, though, there doesn’t have to be a why. After four days of being manic and barely sleeping, a crash was a predictable happenstance. Yesterday I felt like I was drowning. Yesterday I felt so far in over my head that I just wanted to shut down. I brought home literature on all our products in an attempt to be proactive and gain some kind of footing on what I’m doing. It can’t hurt, but it won’t teach me how deals work.
Today I woke up and everything was fine. I went to see Suicide Squad with mom for breakfast. I wanted more of Jared Leto’s joker, but it was good anyways.
Now I’m at home. It’s barely noon. I am crying.
I am overwhelmed with my life.
I dunno what to do.
I just want to throw everything away, but I don’t have the energy.
But it’s just a crash, right?
It’ll get better.