My life is far too stressful. I’ve had enough of it. I woke up before 5am with huge anxiety this morning. One of our cats sat on me because I’d woken up. I’m chasing money yet again. Every year I tell myself it will be different, I’m certain this year will be, but it seems like Groundhog Day over and over. I’m tired of the stress, tired of working so much, tired of how much of my mental capacity is taken up by it all. I feel I never relax. I never take time off for a break from it. It will be the death of me. I see others around me who seem to do so much better and work much less. I can’t figure it out. Nothing makes sense anymore. I’m sure it will pass. I hate all of the fucking clichés people quote. They’re shit. Bipolar does my fucking head in. Nothing makes sense most of the time. What’s the difference between being well and thinking you’re well? Delusion. Does anyone actually have their shit together? My memory isn’t great again. So much to get on with. I put myself down and each day I kill myself a little bit more.