When I was nineteen, I reached a point in my life where the weight of bipolar disorder felt too heavy to carry. I was struggling silently, overwhelmed by emotions I didn’t yet understand, and convinced that I was too broken to be helped. There were moments when I couldn’t see a future for myself, moments when the pain felt endless. Even recently, I’ve had times where old feelings crept back in and tried to convince me that nothing had changed. But it has. With time, support, and learning how to understand my own mind, I discovered that healing isn’t sudden or simple. It comes in small steps, unexpected breakthroughs, and gentle reminders that life still has room for joy. I share this because I want others to know that even when everything feels impossible, it does get better. Not overnight, and not without effort, but with patience and compassion, tomorrow becomes something we can reach toward again. You are never alone in this, and your story is still unfolding.