Why do my friends feel like strangers, why can I not have a favorite song, why can I not read a book and understand concepts, or follow each sentence to a conclusion. Why can I not I see the beauty in all of the art and trinkets and furniture I spent years collecting. Why can I not arrange my bedside table to be beautiful with just what I need. Why can I not put on an outfit and feel confident or that I look good. Why can I not cook anymore or look forward to a good recipe, or shop for the groceries I need. Why did I spend years going to school for art to not be able to draw anymore. Why do I not love my cat or parents or friends, and would not care if anything happened to them. Why do I not get butterflies when a crush talks to me, or the satisfaction of getting things you need to do done. Why did all of this get taken away from me. I did not do anything to cause my first and only manic episode. Yet I have to sit here 8 months later with all things that make life beautiful and full of feeling, gone. I just exist, I do not care about anything, have no convictions or anxieties or desires. Where did they go? They melted away. I cannot believe this disease exists. I cannot believe how badly it has effected me, ending my life so fully. Before this, I could not imagine a state of being as horrible as this if I tried. I want to live again but I believe less and less that life will come back. It feels over.