First, you’re drunk. Then you remember that today is just a ghost that’s haunting you. It happened, and yesterday’s ghost won’t let you forget.

We are from the same place, but we’re both gone from there now. The place defined by it’s proximity to better places, a nameless suburb shoved between the wealthy ones on the lake and the skyline that gives it value.

When you’re in a manic episode, it’s delicious. And I’m not sure if that’s something I’m supposed to say. I should talk about the struggles of this disease. I should tell you it’s a dangerous cycle (it is) and to take medication (you should see a doctor). This is when I’m supposed to wish for a “normal” brain. This is when I tell you how hard it is.