It seems like I am always fighting. Fighting the depression monster from taking over. Fighting mania from happening or getting too out of hand. Fighting stereotypes and stigmas. Fighting ignorance.
I wish for one day that I could rest and not be fighting anything. One day to not have to worry about routines and what other people say and think. One day to just be myself.
Then I start to wonder who I really am because all I’ve ever known is the fight against depression and bipolar disorder. And I will always be a warrior.
Tonight, I will crawl into bed, shedding every bit of my armor, hoping to rest so I can awaken and fight the beast that is depression for another day.