Dear Bipolar Disorder:
I hate you! You know who you are. You're the one who takes a beautiful, intelligent, determined, kind, giving, loving, wonderful girl and turns her into a stranger who rants, yells, destroys, and insults. You're the one who steals time, precious time away from her husband and family. You're the one who makes her risk her life by wandering on an interstate, going where she shouldn't go, doing what she wouldn't go.
You're a destroyer of relationships; a thief of hope; a breaker of hearts; a robber of peace. You're a divider of households; a ruiner of reputations; and a restrainer of potential.
I swear, Bipolar Disorder, you will not defeat us. I will not allow you to be the winner here. I will not allow you to rule the day. You will lose this battle. We will fight until we find a cure. We may fail from time to time as we learn more and more about you. But we will conquer you, make no mistake about it.
We will win because our victory is founded on love not destruction. We will win because our determination is to live free, not die captive. We will win because we are stronger, we are more determined, and we are better than you could hope to be.
You're going down one day, Bipolar Disorder. Get ready for it. We will dance together, hand in hand, upon your grave.
With all my heart,