I used to be ashamed of my bipolar status. I was ashamed of all of the screwball things I did when I was manic.
That was back in 2008, when I tipped the shoe-shine guy $60 because that’s how much I had in my wallet and it seemed like the nice thing to do. I stopped strangers on the street, asking them what they were listening to on their iPods and talking their ears off about music. I bought a $1,600 designer tailored suit. I thought I was on a reality TV show. And that’s just a drop in the ocean. My addiction saw intense, greater lows, like befriending homeless people.