In 8th grade, I started to have long strings of bad days. I didn't at the time know why, I thought that I was just in a rut of bad luck. I failed most of my classes, but was allowed to go on to high school. Then it got real bad. I fell into a deep depression and stopped sleeping regularly. I lost that entire year of schooling. I started seeing a counselor and psychiatrist, and they told me I had bipolar disorder. They tried to help me, but at the time I didn't want to be there, and ended up mostly lying my way out of it. I did okay for a couple of years there, but towards the beginning of this year, I had a manic phase, then started to crash again. Now I'm seeing a psychiatrist and therapist again, and they're giving me a bunch of medication, some of which helps and some of which doesn't. That's me, and there's a highly abridged version of my life.