Zero credit for the hundreds of times I've pulled on my mask and got through the day, looking after everyone else. Attacked for the fraction of a second the mask slipped and they could see the pain underneath. How selfish of me to have a feeling.
Sometimes being bipolar is so damn difficult that I can't help hating myself; just wishing I could be like everyone else, that I could have normal days with normal emotions. But I can't be like everyone else so I cry.