This is a very personal account and a pondering, a looking-back if you will, on events that actually happened in my life some years ago. If you don't agree with any of it I can't stop your mind from running off the beaten path, but hey. I'm telling it just like it was, clearly as I can and without hiding any wrongdoing on my part (even if it was just standing up for myself while I was being attacked.) It was a bad time for me when all of this happened, just so you all understand.
I'm bipolar. Very severely so: to the point of I have very real problems holding a job (I don't currently have one) and even leaving the house some days. I've been this way for as long as I remember, and it's my way of life to battle every day as best I can without the mind-numbing drugs of my youth (my folks did "what they thought was best for me" back then.) I don't say this to excuse anything, nor do I say it to evoke pity. Just to clear up some issues right at the start: ordinary things