The comfort inherent in a label, in a reason, in a belonging, only lasted so long for me. Yes, I was temporarily saved by the notion that there was finally a sign I could point to and say, "This is why I am this way. Help." But it didn’t last very long.
I had a short stint, around age 30, where a particular cocktail temporarily tamed the beast that was my illness. I stayed sober and stable long enough to get my career on the fast track. The problem was, I missed the mania. I was quickly climbing the corporate ladder, and having the ability to ...