Dear Bipolar,

I want to be rid of you as much as I claw at you to stay. You've taught me new definitions of "crazy" and "moody". You've made me hate those words. But I know no other life. A life without extreme emotions is something I simply cannot comprehend. I've loved and lived fiercely and intensely and for that I suppose I should thank you. But as high as you have ever taken me, I've known it's equal counterpart in misery. I'm torn. I don't know whether I should thank you, or despise you.

Confused,
Nessa