So, I’ve grown up learning about mental illness because my mom has bipolar I and I have an uncle with schizophrenia. I was put on anti-depressants around six months ago only to come off of them because they were inducing a hypo-manic episode. I was shoplifting, doing stupid dare-devil stunts, neglecting my job and my family, and drinking too much. I fear that this will bring on a bipolar diagnosis. I am now desperately depressed without the pills, still drinking and cutting myself. I can’t afford to see a real psychiatrist but I can still choose to get back on the medication. Is it better to be a sad-sack or a maniac? Mental illness is a lonely and painful thing that alienates the people you love and makes it impossible to relate to anyone who isn’t Hunter S. Thompson or Harlan Ellison.
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