I saw this bear the other day while walking in an animal park with my husband, stepdaughter, and 14-month old. The stream that normally placidly flowed below overflowed its banks, and into his enclosure. He seemed to be mournfully watching the water as it crept ever closer to him. I reached out to the fence and wanted to soothe his melancholy soul. I felt this kinship with him. My own sadness reached out to him.
For most of my adult life, I have struggled with Bipolar Disorder. My manic episodes are few and far between, but depression has been my frequent companion over the years. Over the last month and a half, it has reared its very ugly head. Drug changes, schedule changes, positive attitudes, and all of that… none of it matters. It hasn’t made a bit of difference. I feel like that bear.