Aug 08

Dinner, the Great Leap Forward

I can’t speak for other bipolars, but when I’m down like I have been the past couple weeks I don’t turn into some Robert Smith or Morrissey-esque emo buzzkill. Stereotypes are a bitch.


Besides, I’ve always been more of the Peter Lorre type.

No, the real problem is I can’t get anything done. When getting up before 5 p.m. becomes a major accomplishment, things like cooking become about as feasible as making steel in my backyard.

Well, assuming I had a backyard. (Nothing like throwing in a random, snarky Chairman Mao reference, is there?)

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May 19

Bulge? I’ve Got Yer Bastogne Right Here!

There’s nothing quite like receiving a nasty surprise at the doctor’s office.

One of the nasty side effects of depression is weight gain. Since you don’t want to do anything, you don’t do anything. Since not doing anything means not getting exercise … well, you get the idea. Continue reading