Bipolar Life- The Strongest Can Fall

I bottle up the internal pain and suffering, only sharing with a few. I wear the mask and behavior of normalcy.

Bipolar Life-The Journal, #18

As an abused child, I stayed locked behind the bars my abuser erected for the keeping. I held on tight to those bars in hopes they would protect me. Their true purpose was to contain me. The darkness I felt then, I feel now.