Today I woke up optimistic. And I thought, this is not the end of it. Optimism is not the end of it. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up depressed. And the day will come that I'll wanna die. The day will come I'll crawl out of it. One more day of optimism will come. Some day maybe a great thing will happen. Or something awfully bad. Over and over again.
Then I thought, it's amazing how we can forget this when we're down in the depths of depression. How it seems like life will never feel good again. How we can't see how wrong we are and how we would never believe it if someone told us. How it would feel like they didn't understand of even fathom the darkness we're in.
Bipolar or not, life has its ups and downs. The scale may be different for us but this only means we feel life more intensely.
I have trust in my whims. Perhaps it sucks a lot but out of nowhere, completely unexpectedly a day comes, a sunny day, in our favour. And we feel optimistic.