In my young days, before I can remember, my uncle recently described me as the coolest little kid he’s ever known. Said I was fun and could relate well to adults.

Starting from my own memories ,I was energized always engaged in something to the hilt. Had to be front and center. Bit of a fragile ego. In early grade school I was deemed to be “gifted” and was placed in a special program. It was all a bit too rigid for me and I tended to be disruptive. Smart enough to get good grades even with the goofing off.

I was honest to a fault and in most cases would give someone the benefit of a doubt (not so these days. I’m kind of embarrassed of what I’ve become).
Anyway.
When I was around 11, my father and I took a ride and he told me a family secret that was really only secret to me. It’s no huge conspiracy. Not if I had known all along. But having it told to me after all that time had passed hurt terribly. It made me feel like I was the butt of a huge joke. The only one left out.

I have always had symptoms of bipolar disorder. Even at a young age but I believe what I described above is when symptoms started becoming more apparent and intrusive on life.

I diverged. Thanks for reading. It’s the first time I’ve actually written about this.