Friendships are hard for a bipolar, anxiety-ridden introvert.
Other than my years of being bullied, friendships were good overall. By 11th grade…and college…and early years of my career, friends were sprinkled throughout. Not many, but enough. None lasted, although I thought they would. As much as I tried to keep them near, they drifted further and further away. Eventually, I stopped trying. I’d converse with my colleagues at work, but doing anything outside of work or home became extremely rare. Continue reading “Outing My Bipolar Self”