I am diagnosed bipolar, like Tempest. I hide it, most days well, some days not. It showed when I was 13, and I was sent to an institution. It was a hard thing to live down, but I moved a lot later and new people I met didn’t know. The people closest to me do know, I am medicated, but I hide it still. I’m afraid of what people will think of me when they find out I have a mental illness. Sometimes I’ve told people about it and they don’t look at me the same way. I’m fine most of the time, unless I come under stress, which I try to avoid. You’d like me, I’m a nice person, but if I told you I was bipolar I worry you might look down on me. I’m not ashamed. It’s just easier this way.
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