*Note - this is not a psychological or medical blog. I have no credentials in that field; I'm just writing my thoughts based on my life experience. This piece is not a commentary on anyone suffering from bipolar disorder, and is not meant to belittle or judge those in any way. If you want to take this personally, please do - but remember that I am the person it's about (and I'm sure many can relate, whether or not they have that diagnosis). If you want professional information or help, please ... see a professional!
A person is considered bipolar if she suffers from episodes of mania and depression that inhibit her ability to function in life. In other words, extremely high highs, and extremely low lows, so much so that it's hard to go on. With that in mind, it seems to me that life is bipolar ... (especially mine, especially now).
I know - everyone knows - life has its share of ups and downs. I've said it before, I'm sure I'll say it again, and I'm certainly not the only one. After all, "¯You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life ... the facts of life¯" (sorry - it got stuck in my head as I was writing the previous sentence, so I had to torture you with it, too share). But it's more than that.
