I spent the past several days heavily intoxicated. I figured it was an appropriate time for another midlife crisis, I suppose. I think I’ve more or less come to terms with the idea that nothing is ever going to change. The bipolar symptoms are not likely to get any better while I am still on prednisone, and I am not likely to be on less prednisone, since nothing else seems to work for my skin. My doctors have never really taken me seriously when I say it fucks me up in the head, and I am apparently unable or unwilling to talk to therapists (and can’t really afford that anymore anyway, but if I could, I still don’t see any point in it). It was a pretty bad week or so, but that’s pretty normal around my birthday.