I know I'm usually talking to myself, but at least here I know I'm talking to myself. Last week I finally told my mom about my diagnosis. It went well, although I didn't expect it would go badly. It's just an awkward to bring up randomly. What I have realized is that what is important in my head isn't the same as what appears important in life. For example, I don't often talk about being bipolar at length to anyone, but I spend a lot of time thinking about it & reading stuff on support forums. I think I still feel like I don't really fit in anywhere; I'm not normal, but I'm not THAT crazy. It's just like when someone is chubby, but not fat. They don't identify with skinny people but the fat people exclude them because they don't think the chubby people know how they feel; after all chubby people don't have diabetes or are told they will die if they don't loose 200 lbs. So here I am, on my island. No one makes a big deal out of me being bipolar, because they don't think it's "that" bad...meaning I'm not out ruining my life or someone else's. I don't necessarily want people to treat me like I'm "special" but at the same time I feel like I can't talk about it. Maybe I just feel weird because I missed taking my pills 3 days last week. Or maybe it's because I have feelings that I feel like no one thinks I should have. Like if I get sad that I only have 3 friends here that it must just be because I'm crazy. Although I don't really let myself get sad, so it comes in quick 2-minute sessions.
I have a lot of stuff to say, but really it's a lot of nothing...so I'll stop there & try to be productive. After last week this week seems like a cake walk; not as much homework & no test.
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