The Invisible Tattoos of Bipolar

Today I found myself hopeless, depressed and just staring at this permanent marker.

I kept imagining what I would look like with all the words I have been called over the years written all over me… Would there even be enough skin?

I may not have the wounds on me for everyone to see, but I feel like they are visible to the world and they are more than visible to me.

I want more than anything to rid myself of these heavy scars, but they always seem to be there staring me in the face when I look in the mirror.

How do I rid myself of painful thoughts that threaten to tear me apart? I want to stop living in what seems like an endless circle. I want to take my life back and smash this mirror that has a hold on me, but in a way the mirror has become my twisted friend. Why do I embrace the guilt when it feels so cold?

I don’t want to be familiar with pain. I don’t want to face it another day. These invisible tattoos are weighing me down, and I must be rid of them.

Someone once told me we are never given a burden we cannot handle, but sometimes I wonder if there was some mistake. People have told me I am strong. The truth is I feel weak in almost every way.

Bipolar is not something I chose. It was just something that happened to me, and now I live with it every day.

The tattoos will never define me. I know who I am. Bipolar is a part of me, but it will never define me. That is the one battle I refuse to lose.

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