Fairytale Ending

At 6pm, nerves frayed by the braying South African freelancer, I scuttle out of the office wrapped tightly in a red shawl. I call a cheery 'goodbye' to the lovely, Polish receptionist. She jumps and, laughing, tells me 'I thought you were Little Red Riding Hood.'

'Well,' I giggle, 'Let's hope I don't meet the Big Bad Wolf on the way home.'

'Oooh, Puss, you're so naughty!' she exclaims in a sing-song voice, and we're both still laughing as I hit the pavement.

Commuting

The train is crowded but I bag a seat and once settled, look up to see the man sitting opposite me. His navy blue suit is a little too big for his stooped shoulders, and his earnest expression, furrowed brow and wire-rimmed glasses leave him looking like the new boy at school. His blonde hair is combed carefully, the side parting straight and neat. His shirt is pale blue and his tie, also navy, has little boats on it. The knot looks a little big and adds to the incongruity of his reading matter; in his hands, this pale, quiet, shy-looking man holds a copy of Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People. The poignancy of his choice weighs heavily.

Explanation

Just under four weeks ago, I was diagnosed as suffering type two bipolar mood disorder. The news shocked me, distressed me, and confused me. Since then, life has been a process of piecing together the shattered fragments of my identity, and this blog was one of the casualties of that process. The frame of mind I adopt when writing these posts encompasses many of the symptoms of hypomania, and as I struggled to reconcile myself to being bipolar, adopting that frame of mind seemed perverse.

However, I have come to realise that bipolar or not, I am still me, and my world view may be tainted with madness but it is still a view, still valid, and so fearfully, I will continue.

Apologies for my absence, sincere thanks for enquiries regarding it.