Rock bottom

I have never felt this alone in my life.

I am doubting myself and everything and everybody I have ever believed in. What if this whole bipolar thing is just a personality flaw and I am just too weak to make the grade in the concrete jungle?

Sometimes I cry (OK, every time I sit still and even begin to think, I cry) and sometimes I have outrageous ideas. I had an ant on my desk and called him Tony. My team played along. When the cleaner killed Tony yesterday, they did not see my tears. The Tony-thing was just a joke though, I do not hear voices and I am not delusional (but my heart was really sore when my Tony got killed). I know I am irrational and I find it really difficult to gage myself and other people.

I find it difficult to believe in a God that allows this kind of hell. I don’t understand how he decides who will get bipolar disorder (if it even exists) or how severe your moods wings ought to be.

I wonder if I will be punished for not believing when there might be a handicap locked up in my brain.