I usually start out each blog entry with how many days I’ve been alive.
It’s a nod to my personal victory that each day ends up being. One more day despite my struggles. One more day despite how tired of it all I can often feel. Just one more day.
I don’t know when I will run out of days, so I try to treat each one as something special. I don’t always succeed. But I try.
Today, I have been alive 12,500 days.
It’s been almost a year since my diagnosis of Bipolar 1. September 25th will mark my one year.
I’m still fighting, still trying to get by. But it will get better, I hope.
I’m a little sad. Couldn’t tell you why. But I’m going to bed.
Take your meds, folks.
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