I just don’t get it. Every time i try to pick myself up it seems as if the universe takes that as a challenge to knock me down and see if i can get back up again. Living with bipolar depression is a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone. The swings are unbearable, and the depressive episodes continue to get worse as i go through life. I honestly was happier just existing w/o a job or anything to my name bc stress is such a killer. I feel like i’m slowly being drained until i have nothing left, and that tank is nearly empty. The moment I get something to my name, a job, a car, a girlfriend, it all comes crumbling down. I hate where I work, my car needs 1500 in repairs a month after i bought it, and my girlfriend lied to get into a relationship with me. I just want to go home. But i don’t know where home is. Ever since i left chicago i’ve just been fucking lost. There’s zero community where i live now and the worst part about it is that it wasn’t even my choice to be here, i was whisked away with two years of high school left. I don’t even know if i’m manic or depressed at this point. All i know is that it’s too much and i don’t want to do it anymore.