I wasn’t diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder until I was in my 50’s. It was a hard thing to accept, but after I had endured a lifetime pain and suffering it was somewhat comforting to be able to finally understand. It was also extremely scary. Even now, every day there’s something else to be learned and new skills to be acquired. Writing is a therapy, and if it helps someone along the way, they maybe it’s a way to pay back for all the damage I’ve inflicted on others.
About this blog: I write from the heart. I keep it as truthful and real as I know how. Other than checking for spelling and grammatical errors I rarely change anything once it’s written. These words flow out of me and onto these pages; unedited, real and raw. There’s never a hidden agenda nor ulterior motive. It is what it is: a glimpse into the madness that is my disease.