What I’m afraid of is this: “Apparently, I have drawn some negativity from others who are going through the same or worse because I implied that a person that doesn’t have enough will power has to be on drugs to control their mood disorder.”

I think you’re a silly bear (or eagle, as the case may be: congratulations, love!) if you thought I was angry because of an implied insult to my mentalness. Psh. I’m all about my mentalness.

I was, and am angry and frustrated, because it doesn’t seem to be working! I KNOW that feeling. I remember everything you write. I went for a year without meds, swearing I could control it, and once again, landed in the hospital. You’re absolutely right: you have the right to try any means you feel necessary to control your affect.

And I know, you’ve spent many years fighting your demons as well. I guess I just snapped a bit, because I’ve done it both ways, and DRUGS ARE EASIER. So much easier, once you find the combo that works. I had two bad years of side effects, and then we found combos that worked. I have no side effects now that are even worth mentioning. It is a process, but it gave me my life back. You have a son, Sunita! It’s not just about you anymore!

For everything you’ve researched, you don’t seem to realize that everything you’re suffering is because you’ve bought into stigma, handed out over the years by the people who refuse to acknowledge that these are biologically based brain disorders. If you had diabetes and decided you wouldn’t take your insulin, I’d be bitching at you the same way. I won’t ever mention this again, and I’m sure that you’ll probably erase this, like you do everything else you don’t like. That hurt me, too, to be honest. I thought that after everything we’ve been through, my words would be worth more than a censure because I said something you didn’t like, and then weeks of silence. I tried to give you space, give this some time. I’ve thought of you the entire time, and worried.

I just want you to know that you are my friend, and a sister of my heart, and whatever you choose, I support. Whenever you need an ear, I’ll listen. I know that this will make you angry again, and I hope you’ll find it in yourself to forgive me. This SCARES me. I don’t want you to suffer.

I don’t know how else to address this. I could call, but I’ve never quite had the words in my mouth that I could find in my hands. I just hope you’ll forgive me.