… and I felt elated. I felt like maybe we had a chance, maybe I had a chance to get out of this hell that is bipolar and somehow make it work. I felt like my old self. I actually laughed. A two week anger/mania streak just lifted. But I have to remember all that I went through, and put him through for weeks. Funny how bipolar makes you focus on the current thing and feel like it was forever. but I know that time-wise, I have been miserable or way more than I have been happy. It does not add up. I know the survival instinct is fighting for me to fight just one more time, but I have to take a step back and remember how horrible I felt when he said I had become emotionally abusive. I cannot love anyone properly. I can’t bear to be alone, either, knowing that that is how it will always be and should always be so that I don’t hurt the person I care about.