Hi,

I went to a place in my brain where I remembered what my life was like before bipolar meds killed any chance of being useful on this planet.


I remembered that I had dreams for myself. I can't even remember what that freeeking dreams were. I know that I had them.

The dreams were not about saying thanks each morning that I woke up stable enough to move through the day.

What a depressing way to start each day.
I end the day the same way -- thankful that I am functioning.

You know what? I think that I bore myself.

M