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An unexpected suicide attempt led to the diagnosis of Bipolar I in October 2007. I take the reader inside the walls of two psych wards and introduce them to the mentally ill. I climb onto a third story roof at 2 A.M. night after night. Race down a country road at 110 miles per hour. Climb a tree in a sequin dress. Irrational thinking. Grandiosity. Limitless ideas. Mania. A depression so incapacitating I could barely lift my toothbrush to my mouth. Self-harm that led to blood dripping from my fingers onto the bathroom linoleum. Tiny blue stitches. Obsessing over my prescription pills and X-acto blades and knives as a means of suicide. It's all in there. The compassion of my family is evident as I move in with my parents after living on my own for ten years. I fall in love and prove that there is love for everyone. I learn that compassion isn't just for other people. Psychiatrists, therapists, support groups, friends, family, partners. I rely on the strength of others and soon their strength is my own.