I have been living with, suffering, treating, flying, manic, permiscuis, all over the map with my bipolar affective disorder. I have tons and tons of journals all over my house. My laptop is full of letters I’ve written but never sent that define my momments of absolute clarity as I type as fast as I can to keep up with manic thoughts that come to my mind. And then there are the dark days. Deep, dreadful, horrible pain and suffering with self-loathing and self-hate with suicidal tendencies. This is what I will write about.