Never Going Back Again

Spring 2014, a week or so before my psychotic break.

I took this selfie on the bus to work. My uncontrollable emotions felt different that day and I wanted to remember it. I had been crying all morning, totally inconsolably. I was deeply sad. A boy I liked didn’t want a relationship with me, work was difficult and frustrating, and my mind raced with endless brilliant ideas. Nights were sleepless and the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I was stressed.

At the time I didn’t know I was manic. I knew that I was different than other people, but I thought this was just my life, how I was supposed to function. There were depressions so low I considered suicide and manias that made me highly productive, but also agitated and hard to be around.

This picture haunts me. I don’t look well. I was miserable. My life being untreated lasted at least 5 years. Up and down, misery and ecstasy, grandiosity and depression. Also stretches of peace. I tried so hard to feel better. But I was trying all the wrong things.

If someone gave me a small fortune to go back and relive my early 20’s, I’d tell them to get GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE! Never again.

Happy to be here now ❤️

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