Today marks a milestone, the first time I have seen a psychologist in a while, well years. I have struggled with trust and finding someone who didn't make me feel like a failure, for once it was a possible breakthrough to finding what is truly wrong. Today after assessment it seems to finally have a name, Bi-Polar, most shun that name and possibly even fear it, I find it fascinating and embrace it. Its a name, a label perhaps, but a promise that it can be treated. Russle Brand, Nicola Pagett, Van Gogh, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Stephen Fry, all have or believed to have Bi-Polar, I find it a gift with the aid of the substantial curse that follows. Art has always been a guiding light to calm the rapid storms that break the calm in my mind, drawing feverishly or painting for hours was soothing in the realms of mania. I had thought my actions normal thinking I had found my *groove* or inspiration, turns out it was just mania fooling me into thinking I was the next Picasso  I can barely draw a tree.

So now it comes down to the testing and the thoughts of doctors who are going to find it challenging to treat me, after all I have had this my whole life and it has just now gotten to the point I cant control it anymore, When I started typing this I was relatively  calm now I am extremely hyper and manic, barely able to spell words, my hands typing faster than I am capable, it's hell, its not me, Bi-Polar is like losing your identity when the mania hits so thank God for spell check, Why am I writing my darkest demons? Because I want to record my feelings of who I am, perhaps taking on the role of a teacher to someone as this carries on, my road, my dreams, the reason I keep going a strong thirst for knowledge a never ending quest for adventure, see what I mean about the gift with a curse.

To what keeps me *sane* (I am now shifting to being calm again for now) Music, Without it I would be nothing but a hollow corpse that can't feel, that and Anime (Japanese animation) are the things besides my art and photography that keep me grounded. When I began rapidly losing the things I loved rather by extreme cases of anxiety or my own pulling away I searched out  help, I cannot express how much these things have saved my life over the years and the people who have been there are priceless in their caring and ability to be around me.

If you have ever been scared of losing control, or the best example is being in a car that randomly hits ice and starts spinning like crazy and then get back control till the next patch of nearly fatal disaster... You have felt a similar feeling of what I deal with daily, frustration so bad you want to scream, depression dreadful enough to contemplate suicide, along with the injustice of having that in the back of your head most of the time, lets not count out the paranoia and anxiety, the distrust of almost everyone around, trying to look normal when you look like a deer in headlights, twitching, wringing of hands, and breathing fast, I ask myself how the hell can I be fat?

Wrapping up this post I must say if you suffer, then put up a fight, only you can control your destiny and find your identity.