The word bipolar is, like narcissism, thrown around a lot these days. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve been asked, “Are you fucking bipolar or something?” when I’d get annoyed over smelly socks on the floor or not feeling like going out on a given night or just suffering from the monthly hormonal shit. And to be completely honest, I’ve referred to my car’s heater as bipolar (you digitally set it at a certain temperature, but man, 78 degrees is definitely not consistent in my old lady mobile).
Bipolar disorder is really not something to joke about, though. Once called manic depressants, those who live a bipolar life have a tough go of it, usually depending on medication and psychiatry to maintain some semblance of a normal life. This might be especially true of …
