My Bipolar Makes Me Hate Everything and Everyone

I hate you.

Or, perhaps, it might be more accurate to say my bipolar hates you. Or my bipolar makes me hate you. Or something.

I feel this pervasive negative, black, dark, inky hatred spread atop my “Natashaness” that seems to affect how I feel about everything. Theoretically, philosophically, intellectually, I know that I don’t hate everything. In fact, I know that I don’t really hate anything. But I sure feel as if I hate everything.


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