I saw my therapist yesterday just to check in. She thinks the book thing might become overwhelming or something. And it might be, I suppose, if the real people behind the fake names in my memoir come out of the woodwork, or if anyone, especially in the media, directly attacks my credibility based on my mental health status. Because isn’t that the point of writing and blogging about this stuff – to make it relatable, so people can understand we’re not monsters, but everyday people, not “like everyone else”, but human beings who are friends, lovers, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, grandmothers, etc. As a person with bipolar and as a lesbian, no, I’m not “just like every one else,” and don’t want to be, but that isn’t a bad thing. And that’s just one of many reasons I write, to keep discussions about stigma in both communities on track, and talk about the real deal.