Generally I make no secret about my stance on mental health issues and the role it plays in my own life. I am bipolar ii; I don’t have it, I have not been diagnosed with it. It is who I am, as intrinsic to my makeup as being a writer or a redhead or a liberal. There is no separating it from me.
And, just like writing, gingerness, and liberal justice, I have to remember how to function in a world not necessarily suited to that. I have to learn what flaws I have, created by these facts, and work on improving them or at least finding ways around them to still be functional.
(Let’s be real. There’s no improving red hair. It’s already the best there is. #ScienceFact.)
Continue reading “Fun Times with Mental Illness”