- Ride it out. Sleep it off. Which I've been doing since Sunday afternoon.
- Walk through a spider web and do the frantic spider-web dance. Which I did this morning. Bipolar depression is no match for the absolute mathematical certainty that there's a giant man-eating spider somewhere on your body. Or crawling into your shirt. Or down your underpants.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
How to survive a bipolar crash:
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Timber!
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