I was hypomanic with high hopes and optimism. Like, maybe I can be a bit social and engage in conversation and activities that I enjoy. Maybe be more involved in “living”. I started to communicate regularly and put myself out there with an inviting smile on my face. 
But I’m stable now. The meds are working. I see reality for what it is. I’m not an important person. There’s absolutely no reason for me to engage in anything other than what’s necessary for my kids. If I had known I was bipolar before getting pregnant, I wouldn’t have had kids because I fucking suck and they deserve the best because they’re awesome. I wish my husband would fall in love with someone else and my kids would adore this other woman and forget about me so they could have a happy life and be well cared for as I fade away. I wish for that all the time because I love them so much and I wish they had a better mother. I try and try but I will never be able to give them all the things I dream for them. If it weren’t for them, I would have been gone a long time ago. But They do need me and I’ll give everything I can to them. I just feel like the only way I can stick around, is to fade away as much as possible in every other way. I don’t want to talk to anyone or see anyone or waste my time trying to find ways to entertain myself. Why should I do any of that. I want to be as close as possible to not existing other than to be available to my kids. I do not care to live for myself. I’m just hanging in there for my kids and hoping I don’t stain their lives too much.