Ever since I could comprehend the moral line between good and bad, I always wanted to make my mark; help out, see the good in life, in people, in everything. Deep down I was empathetic and I knew it. But I was also naive. That same naivety allowed for my feelings to be taken advantage of the second I stepped into a bigger world beyond what I thought was it. Over time, I grew more and more detached, distant, and lashed out towards people I cared about way more than I ever did before Some could argue it was puberty Others could argue it’s the first stages of bipolar disorder. I’d argue it’s the latter, I have highs and lows WAY too often, and the lows heavily outweigh the highs I’ll wake up and instead of getting up to start the day I’ll spend an hour scrolling on my phone mindlessly or just laying there staring up at the roof while I just think all sorts of negative things about myself. And every time I tried to open up? I was ignored. That’s the gyst of what’s been in the old noggin.