“ I’m sitting on the porch swing of the little rented house… I’m swinging a little, watching the cars go by. I am holding myself carefully, like an egg. I am fragile, barely there. I imagine I am transparent, that you can see right through me to the screen behind, and the oak tree beyond that, and the little green house beyond that. I take extreme caution when breathing. I hold very still so that I will not upset the tenuous balance of my mind, tip it on its side, send my thoughts sliding all over again.
Madness: A Bipolar Life by Marya Hornbacher (via fuckyeahmadness)
