I miss me. That free spirit I used to be. That wacky girl everyone called weird because they didn’t know how else to describe my ups and downs, my quirky interests.
I used to, for brief manic periods, grab like by the throat and live it to the bone, my way, even if it meant months indoors writing. I LIVED life and sometimes even loved it and the contentment I felt.
I miss those fleeting periods of joy, even if it was without reason. I did stupid things, I was irresponsible, I was hurtful to others, I made a mess of my life. Still..I had a life. I miss me.
It was nice to find an explanation for all the wackiness that did not stay in keeping with my normal character. Bipolar. Up and down. Unfortunately, since mood stabilizers, I have few ups and live most of my life in…
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