My mind turned to my bipolar disorder. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my disease was the cause of my loneliness, even though there wasn’t a tangible reason for my thoughts to twist in this way. Bipolar disorder hadn’t caused the accident. It wasn’t the reason my parents hadn’t answered their phones. It wasn’t the reason Tony hadn’t come to meet me at the hospital, and it wasn’t the reason my glasses had flown from my face. I equated bipolar disorder with loneliness out of habit. After years of dealing with the disease, I had experienced the heartbreak that comes when people see you in your
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