I have what's called bipolar disorder, which is a precarious diagnosis. Anyway, I work for a company I dislike and would hate to work anywhere for the kind of pay and conditions that exist today.

Cannot afford to move out without risking financial precarity, and the meds aren't helping me in my goal to lose weight.

I have become unattractive,, tired and angry.

So, I'm done with all this now. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. There's no redemtion. No love. Just gradual, painful decay