At the Bookstore

I had some time to kill today, so of course i went straight to the self-help aisle at Barnes & Noble. OK, i had other interests as well, but mostly i browse - literally. Mostly i cannot bring myself to pick up a book - i literally panic and have an anxiety attack. Rather i just scan the titles, spine by spine. But self-help, that's different. I have some motivation left yet, i've realized.

Anyway, this book titled "Bad Childhood, Good Life" caught my eye. But look, it's by Dr. Laura! To which i say, Ppbbbtt! I thought to myself, I wish there was a book called "Good Childhood, Bad Life". That would be more relevant. That would probably give me some insights.

But when i stepped back into the sunlight, life was not so bad. Not bad at all. I dread moments like this, because it's like i cannot even fathom what it's like to be unhappy. It's surreal. A little unsettling, like i'm losing footing. But such is the club that is Bipolar Disorder, which, needless to say, is members only.