Bipolar disorder is hard to explain. Sometimes it hides, and I can pretend that it has gone away. Other times, it consumes me, mentally, physically, emotionally. Pretending is never a good idea, but consumption is a sure fire way to disappear for a while. Getting easily iterated is normal for me, but sometimes it’s rightfully so. I can’t tell you all of my triggers, or all of my paths back. I can’t say that I hate it, but I can say that I wish it wasn’t an option. I can’t always fight my spiral, sometimes it’s a blast, other times, it’s just hard to explain.