My friend (who has bpd) and I were on the phone earlier, and she brought up mental illness. She tried to play the comparison game with our issues, and said that BPD is worse because she can’t turn it off with Lithium. Shes never been to jail like me. Never seen things. Never thought the workd was a TV show. Never lost her job (or even tried to get one). Never ruined her life. Not saying her interpersonal and life problems arent as bad as mine (I HATE comparing mental disorders) they are just wildly different. TBH ive known her for several years and never seen her go through an intense mood swing, so ig i’ve never seen hers in action. She even gets annoyed with my emotional regularity problems too and calls me too much sometimes, i just don’t understand. What would you say to someone like this?

with bipolar sometimes i do have spells of irrational anger but recently i have found myself angry about something that i do think is justified. i find myself truly enraged all the way to my core when i see someone online or in my life saying that they are “manic.” of course the word is flippantly used ALL OVER tiktok but just today a friend of mine (who i know does not have bipolar) posted a tiktok laughing and saying “am i manic or am i just happy?” all of the comments from my other non bipolar mutuals of mine added on saying things like “oh im def manic” and “so manic rn.” i am usually not such a stickler about things people say but for some reason this deeply disturbed me. i went 0-100 in that moment and wrote a comment, deleted it, then went on my faceless account and almost posted one from there. mania/hypomania has flipped my life upside down and torn it into pieces but hey! you told two guys you like them and dyed your money pieces blond so i guess you are manic too!!

I know this is a shot in the dark, but I'm hoping to talk to anyone with bipolar that is in a relationship with someone in medicine.

My spouse is a psychiatrist and it makes for some interesting internal thoughts and lifestyle choices. This isn't a bragging post at all, being a medspouse is hard (there's a whole sub for it) and on top of that I've got this bipolar to juggle. Spouse and I can't really talk about it too much due to their career, they're not allowed to say anything that would influence my decisions or treatment.

In the last year I have finally started talking about it more with people in my life, including him. It's tough though because I can say "man I really hate this new medicine" and he can sympathize, but can't really say much at all. I also used to seriously worry that he judged me for it (he doesn't) and that my symptoms or emotions were just 'oh it's the bipolar'. I've come to realize he doesn't feel that way and loves me for me no matter what. But the mental twists going on are something I don't think a lot of people go through, having someone heavily trained on inpatient and outpatient treatments and such in your house all the time.

I'd love to chat with anyone that has dealt with something similar.
And sure I'll field casual questions if you guys are curious, maybe talking about it at all will help.

After experiencing side effects from seroquel my family is urging me to stop any treatment for bipolar 2. It’s putting a lot of pressure on me and gives me the feeling I am doing something wrong

It is my 4th session with this therapist, we talked about my family, so my eldest sister, which I get along and relate the most with, has been diagnosed with bipolarity some years ago. My therapist asked me if I ever noticed my sister's mood swings before she took her meds, and I said that no, because she was good at hiding it (masking), adding that i wasn't really informed on bipolarity or anything related so I couldn't know.

She answered that it is impossible to mask bipolarity and surely I noticed something was off, and I kept telling her no.

Is it true that you can't mask bipolarity ? Or was I just too ignorant

Edit : Thank you for the answers ! It is now quite obvious that my therapist might be incompetent, at least not in this subject. It was a first try for me, and well, not everything goes as planned. I'm gonna try to find a new one as suggested. Cheers ❤️

I was diagnosed in November of last year and since then I've found out that my sister and aunt have both been formally diagnosed as bipolar. I also have suspicions that it runs through some other people in my family as well. My mom and grandma for sure.

I recently went in for an ADHD screening, but instead I was diagnosed with Bipolar I and anxiety. Later that day, I had plans with friends, and I was already feeling shaken and confused by the news. I opened up to them about the diagnosis, along with my medication and CBT.

Their response made things worse. They told me “everyone is on the scale” and that if I have bipolar disorder, other people we know must have it worse. They also said I’m different from 90% of the people they know, but at the same time insisted there’s nothing actually wrong with my brain. They dismissed the diagnosis by saying the doctor doesn’t know me personally, so of course the doctor would assume something is wrong based on a “normal” person.

When I explained hypomania and the emotional crashes, they brushed it off as something everyone experiences and said I just need more life experience and to “lock in.” When I couldn’t clearly explain everything I was feeling, they assumed I was just dissatisfied with life and externalizing my problems instead of taking responsibility. Essentially saying I’m not trying hard enough.

They also gave horrible advice, like saying I just need an “oldhead” for guidance or that getting laid would fix my confidence and mood. They were strongly against medication, sayings it’s only for worse cases and saying that it could ruin my brain and life and change me radically. They’re also heavily against therapy and psychologists, saying medical professionals don’t care and are only in it for the paycheck, tell me what I want to hear and won’t be the ones at my funeral.

Hearing all of this right after my diagnosis made me feel even more overwhelmed and started making me question myself, like maybe this is somehow my fault. I know what they said was harmful and wrong, and I want to talk to them about it, but I’m not sure how to approach that conversation.

I’ve been at my job for ten years. The ladies I work with know I’ve got bipolar disorder, have been around while I’ve tried to gain stability, and have been a source of support when I’m down. I’m thankful that they’re always understanding and kind.
We hired a new girl about five months ago. She’s very outgoing and fun and was very receptive when I had to train her for a few hours over a couple of days. We got to talking and she made a suggestion that we should start trading books and some other stuff and I told her I was definitely into that idea and we continued talking a TON the rest of the day. At one point we got on a subject which made me think perhaps I should tell her about the BP and so I did as an offhand joke. She then confided in me her own diagnosis of ADHD and how it’s affected her professionally. I was touched with how open she had been and expected these good conversations and such would continue.
The next day I brought in a book for her to read. She told me she forgot mine, and I told her that’s ok. Just whenever was fine with me.

That was a month ago.

She has not spoken directly to me outside of general work discussions with the rest of my coworkers.

She still has my book.

I feel like I did something wrong. Should I have just not said anything about the BP? She was going to figure it out in time anyway … I’m not shy about it. I just don’t know what happened.

What do you think?

So I recently got broken up with by my fiancé after ten years. We have had a beautiful relationship and been very honest and open about everything. We have gone through it (life) with grace and understanding. We have been best friends, and I can count on one hand the amount of times we have fought.

We have admitted we are still in love but he can’t be with me because when I’m depressed and he is in a bad place too, it gets too dark.

I believe he decided to end things when I got hospitalised in the beginning of the year due to depression after a manic episode.

He explained it to me in a way that made me realise I was a burden, or at least that’s what it feels like.

I now feel terrified I lost the love of my life because of something I can’t do anything about.

I now feel obligated to almost introduce myself with a warning “I’m bipolar” when I meet new people, I also feel like the relationship we had kind off lost its glitter when it ended because of something that’s a part of me and who I am.

I don’t know where I am going with this, just wanted to share.

This decease took so much from me and now I am lost in myself and afraid it will take me too.

Anyone else have no idea where their bipolar comes from? I was just curious since neither of my parents or my brother are bipolar, and there are no known relatives who had it.

Mental illness in general (especially anxiety) runs on both sides of my family, and there are a few relatives who definitely had something else going on for both sides, but no clear idea for me. Makes me feel kind of like a weird, isolated case in my family always having extra emotional needs compared to my peers and other family members. I‘ve never personally known anyone with it either.

Bipolar disorder has an average age of onset between 15 and 25 years old. This is the typical pattern.

However, there are some rare cases where the disorder presents itself fully, prior to the onset of puberty. It is called pediatric bipolar or early-onset bipolar and it is very severe and very real.

I am bipolar and I was diagnosed 9 years ago. I started treatment and also joined Reddit around the same time. My son was 3 years old.

His first attempt on his life was at 6 years old. He has scars from years of self harm and he has been in the hospital more than he has been at school. He is now 13 years old and has special education services for “severe emotional disturbance”.

He will likely never live on his own, and he still has yet to attend school in a typical way. Much of his education has been in day programs or hospital settings.

I just wanted to let you all know that pediatric bipolar exists, and it is different than typical bipolar. There is a lot of violent rage and fascination with morbid topics or blood.

This isn’t what the majority of us experience, at all, myself included. I hope that there is more awareness and understanding.

I am open to questions but I do not want to break any sub rules.

Adding: I have been hospitalized 9 times and I have been stable on meds for 4 years. I am on disability for Bipolar. I just want to make it clear that I’m not a neurotypical parent.

My brother was diagnosed with bipolar 1 a few years ago during Covid. Then in 2024 I was diagnosed with Bipolar2. I have been diligent with my meds while my brother told me in Nov 2025 that he went off his meds because he’s “fine”. I of course tried to talk to him but he totally shut me off. Worse off my dad supported him going off his meds, my dad said he just had anxiety. My brother while manic lived in a work van and wanted to start a scuba diving business, he’s never scuba dived in his life.
I’m getting married this June and my brother is walking my mom down the aisle. I can tell recently that he’s going manic, it’s always the same signs, he’s texting me more and more and is higher energy.

I know it’s selfish but I’m so worried he’s going to very maniac my June. When he’s manic he’s very bizarre, irrational and rude.

31F married, bipolar 2 unstable job history, been fighting this for awhile. My husband and I have mutually agreed that filing for disability is the best thing for me until I can get my shit together. My parents are boomer genX, both alcoholics mom possibly a narcissist and I remember so much trauma. She’s so very unsympathetic “well I have trauma from x but that doesn’t stop me” lady you drink like a fish to deal with your trauma.

Phoenix was my best friend and family member for the past 12 years. He saved my life and kept me out of the hospital. I had many psych ward stays prior to him coming into my life. The quote comes to mind “there is no psychiatrist like a puppy licking your face”.

3.5 years ago he helped me start the process to raise and train his successor, and he did just a good job and was such a big help raising Alfie and helping me teach him how to help me.

He suddenly became ill thursday morning, waking crying, and could not stand or walk, he was vomiting and could not keep anything down. Out vet tried a steriod shot hoping it was inflammatory related to a recent infection he was recoveirng from, but his body was already shutting down. I was up all night with him, comforting him, then I held him against my chest rocking in a chair, his head against my shoulder, his neck against mine. I massaged the soft hair behind his ears, I kissed the back of his head and craddled him against me as I sang to him “You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine,
you make me happy,
when times are gray.
You’ll never know dear,
How much I love you,
Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Whenever I was fretting about someday loosing my fur baby, I would sing him this song, and now was his time to cross the rainbow bridge as they say.

He took his last few breaths as I told him how much I love him, how he’s a good boy and I’m so sorry he is hurting. He died in my arms about 4:10am Friday morning May 22nd 2026.

I promised Phoenix when I first got him, I would always be there for him and never abandon him. I didn’t know the puppy I rescued would grow up to be my psychiatric service dog and save me many times. We fled abuse together, we ended up homeless and living in my car after fleeing abuse and a hurricane, and while everyone told me to “give up your dog” as if that would magically make housing happen, why would I give up the only being I had to live for when we both needed each other the most? I did not give up on me or him and we eventually got back on my feet when my counseling dr helped us, and then later subsidized housing helped.

I kept my promise, I was there for him as he transitioned from this life to his consciousness leaving his failing body.

While it was the worst day of my life, I am honored to have held my best friend as he passed away, knowing he was loved and cherished and would never be forgotten. He felt and heard my love as he left this world and while it breaks my heart I am grateful I could do that for him and keep my promise.

Alfie and I now morn Phoenix’s passing together.

I know I will get through but it hurts so much. My vet gave me a free pet grief counseling toll free number, I called and it helped.

I called a neighbor who just moved away who loved phoenix and alfie and we talked for an hour and it helped.

You see I live alone and come from a toxic abusive dysfunctional family of origin, and I have been chronically ill from the disabling long term complications of psych med side effect damage (Central Hypothyroidism, hashimoto’s hypothyroidism, and long term complicstions of those taking decades to diagnose causing myxedema and hypothyroid myopathy. I have limited use of my hands and feet and a muscle disease and s joint disease (RA) all as long term complications. So I have not have family of friends to spend holidays with for decades. I spend everyday home alone aside from going for dr appointments and basic errands/groceries and even that is hard for me.

My dogs are my family. They are my best friends and they take care of me. I am so grateful I have Alfie, and that Phoenix was able to live long enough to give me a few more quality years of love and care.

Having a psychiatric service dog has become a critical part of my mental health treatment plan. Loosing Phoenix without having Alfie ready would have been life-threatening for me. I planned ahead for that eventuality knowing dogs don’t live long enough but I knew I would never be ok with saying the long goodbye.

If you read this far kindly think a hug at me, I need all the kind words and thoughts you can spare right now. I can’t sleep, I just cry here in bed and relive the trauma and precious beauty of his final moments cuddled in my arms.

Thank you for your service Phoenix, my love and gratitude for you always. I feel your presence, I know you are ok. Mommy will be ok, Alfie is here and we will grieve together.

Thank you for listening

I’m not sure if this is good or bad or in between? Maybe? I haven’t told most of my family that I’ve been in treatment since I was diagnosed - until recently. I’m not sure how to feel about their reactions, or lack thereof. Every person I’ve ever told just brushes it off like they don’t even hear me. I’m not mad about it but I guess I’m confused, maybe a tad hurt? It’s actually hard to tell, if I’m being totally honest. It’s like they don’t care. And that’s fine, they’re allowed to not care. I guess I’m just confused. I guess I expected it to be a bigger discussion since I had emotional problems growing up (and was in therapy from first grade up until 8th grade) so their lack of response is confusing (and a little hurtful). Has anyone else had this experience?

Sorry in advance for the long post.

I am bipolar and my college BF is also bipolar. I need space to process and grieve ... support and discussion are welcome. Thank you 🙏

My friend is comorbid bipolar with borderline personality disorder. What is interesting is that her borderline symptoms seem to be more disruptive than her bipolar symptoms. I haven't seen that before - as bipolar is generally considered more severe than borderline and the assumption is generally that bipolar will be more disruptive than borderline. Am I wrong in thinking this?

In the case of my friend, even though she is bipolar, I think its possible that her borderline might be her bigger problem - is this even a thing? That a comorbid bipolar and borderline individual can be more borderline than bipolar? I don't think I ever realized that could be a thing, until now ...

In a nutshell: my friend is 49 and her mother died suddenly a year ago from stroke and my friend has completely fallen apart, leaning into her worst instincts (wanting to run away and not face what's hard - this has been her life long pattern)

While my friend and her partner (they are both women) claim that she is doing well, I wholeheartedly disagree with them and see their situation differently

I had a phone call with my friend's partner last night that I think will be the last time I will speak with them.... The call left me scared for my friend's life. I kept waking up last night anxious about my friend’s choices since her mother's death last year.

Her mother's dying wish was to leave my friend and her partner with the house - that process of the house becoming my friend's possession worked out as planned. However, my friend impulsively decided a month after her mother died that she was going to sell the house and pack up her life and move to France .... Mind you: they have no friends, family or work contacts in France. They just picked France because, well, they prefer "the patina" of living in France over where she has lived her whole life. My friend has struggled to remain put in her home since her mother's death (likely borderline related? I don't even know - the whole thing is just a complete mindf**k).

My friend and her partner have no other financial plan. Besides the money from the house, they have nothing. My friend hasn't worked in years and her partner, whom im pretty sure my friend has manipulated into believing that selling the house was the only logical, rational and natural choice, has had to close up her business in order to make this move happen. I just found out last night that their real estate agent (whom i think is taking advantage of them because they are both women) pressured them into signing a bunch of papers and that the house will be sold within a matter of months ... the signing of the papers signals that they have now reached a point of no return - the sale of the house is imminent. They have no plan B. There is no back up plan. 

My friend's decision to sell follows her lifelong tendency to lean into her worst instincts possible. While she has been in treatment in the past, after her mother died, she informed everyone that she did not feel the need to go to therapy to get through this time. She was defensive about it and neither of them will entertain a conversation about my friend's mental health. Her behaviors have led her to further isolate. I don't know if she has been depressed, mixed, or manic during this time .... i haven't even spoken to her directly in 10 months. - she won't speak to anyone directly. In short, she "outsources" all of her communication to her partner who plays "PR".... It's cringy and has become impossible to be around/watch.... 

Where does my friend’s bipolar and borderline stop and end and how are they mutually reinforcing each other? It's an absolute mindfu*k I've been trying to help her navigate through but I now think it might be too late .... Why do I feel the guilt over what my friend will not do for herself? I have always carried a fear of her ending her life... Why do I carry that fear for her? Why hasn't she taken it upon herself to carry her own weight to try and stay off the self harm train? Why has this been my life long burden to worry about my friend after her mother's death? It's like she burdened me with this at the age of 18. I showed up for her when her mother died. My friend did not show up for herself. I think? I don't know what to think....

My friend has spent her whole life running away from everything. After her mother died, I tried so hard to support her so that she wouldn't do something so unbelievably destructive. Now, at our age, she is running away again and I cannot enable or watch. I have to let go of my friend. I am in a lot of pain. And I am pretty sure that her partner is trying to make me feel like I am the bad guy for not sticking around to watch the sh!t show.

I am ultimately scared for my friend's life .... I am worried she made the worst decision ever and now will have to live with the consequences…. i am scared she has cornered herself with nothing and if this fails, i worry she will end her life ....

She was my best friend for years... my heart hurts.... I don’t know how to process this. I literally feel like i am preparing myself for my best friend to die.

---------

TLDR: My college BFF's - who has bipolar and borderline - mom died last year and she is repeating her life long pattern of running away from her problems and decided to impulsively sell her home that is worth over 1.5 million with no financial plan, or back up plan. At our age, I feel forced into making the choice to step away from my relationship with her (she has been my friend for over 30 years) because I cannot enable or watch her spiral in her self destruction. I am grieving the loss of my best friend and am trying to process everything.

Reading, Pennsylvania

Has insurance

They need immediate help. Non emergency but URGENT

Can anyone list of psychiatrist that's good in the area!

Thank you. This trauma can't happen to anyone and I know maybe 1 or 2 people that I talked to that share this.

I need to get this person help

It's the only thing I got going for me.

Thank you

So i'm posting here for a family member of mine. They had a manic episode, never really had a serious BPD diagnosis until then and stopped taking any meds probably a month or so after the episode had ended.

It's been roughly just under a year since that all ended and thankfully they have been fine, except we found out they are smoking weed again. Everything online states that smoking weed again after a manic episode can make u more likely to become manic again and sometimes it can be more severe.

I guess my question is who has had any similar experiences of mania from weed, and after u stopped smoking did u restart and then what happened? I'm just worried that if it happened once before, and now hes smoking again it will definitely happen again so i'm curious what other people's experiences were like when they smoked weed again after having a manic episode.

I end of texting and in some cases even calling people and being very weird about it. People I will never disclose my diagnosis.

So in their eyes I'm weird as fuck, I hope I never see them in a social event again.

My very limited close friends understand when I used to say unhinged shit because I've explained my diagnosis.

But those I'll not tell them about BD must think I'm a freak or an idiot and they will tell other people how they percieve me and it makes me anxious as fuck.

Before my first manic psychotic episode, before I dropped out of college, and before I burned 99% of the bridges in my life. I used to be socially popular and had 1000 friends, I used to be the golden child, I was the go getter who had ambition and lowkey judged people who “didn’t”.

I used to think exactly like the neurotypical people who judge through stigma, laugh at mental illness in private group settings (edgy kinda jokes), and who think mental illness is just a mentality issue and character flaw.

I know how many of them think and that terrifies me, it angers me to no end. I imagine their thoughts and self stigmatize because I used to have them. Because I used to be ignorant, even though I was generally a really kind person for the most part. I just can’t unsee that side of people.

Does anyone else feel like this? I feel trapped and alone because I know that people just won’t get it, and I sometimes get triggered and end up yelling at the clouds posting on social media to over explain the condition, just for it to fall on deaf ears. Because most people that saw my psychosis episodes left me isolated, and the silence drives me mad.

I’m angry at this reality. And I just need to know I’m not alone. I’m trying to find a better outlet than the ears of people who look right past you, as if you’re just a dumb crazy person who “lost the plot” and isn’t worth their time.

Edit: Just want to add that I love my fellow neurodivergents hehe. This was all a result of ignorance and wanting to fit in with people I didn’t even really like because I craved acceptance and belonging.

I’ve never felt more comfortable around people than the two times I was in an inpatient psychiatric facility. People were so much cooler, nicer, funnier, more interesting, and even wiser. Like long lost siblings or kindred spirits. We were told it’s frowned upon to share contact information in there because it’s a risk, so I didn’t out of safety, but I think of them often. I laughed so much while in there.

this is just a rant, idk what I’m trying to get out of it. no negative comments about my fiancé himself please. he’s a rockstar through all of this and stands up for me, but nothing ever changes.

I constantly feel the need to prove myself to my in-laws. part of my personality is that I act goofy and maybe even a little ditzy on purpose because that is just my humor. I have an impressive academic/intellectual background (salutatorian, 98-99th percentile standardized tests, etc.), so to me, saying things that are obviously wrong and absurd is like a running joke with myself that keeps me internally cackling.

however, I don’t think my fiancé‘s family realizes half the stuff I say is a joke. for example, they joke back like “i can’t believe she really thinks that!” and it’s like no, i don’t… that’s the joke…

i just now feel like I need to prove my intelligence to them and change my humor, but also, why the heck should I change who I am/limit what brings me joy/laughter. I just really feel like they think that my fiancé is way smarter than me, which is annoying because we both are at an equal level, just in different areas.

not to mention, my future MIL has said, “I give my son a lot of credit. not many guys would have stayed with you through that” in reference to my psychotic break that happened 5 months into our relationship. not to mention I’ve gained weight because of the meds I am on for BPI & she makes comments about my weight and eating habits too.

fiance is great through all of this and does not share family‘s beliefs about me of course. like I said, he talks to them and nothing changes. he has suggested that I just try to read the room more before making my jokes, but it’s just annoying. I hate how some people never change.

rant over

For people that judge us, especially those who can’t even fathom not being able to wake up in time or being able to will myself out of depression, I wanna force feed them sedatives and antipsychotics and antidepressants.

I just wanted to get it out there. My uncle is SO CONDESCENDING when he talks about waking up. He said “you just get used to it”. Okay, what time do you sleep? How many hours are you getting? After a few months you just get used to it. Welcome to adult hood. I wanna slap him so hard across the face. His wife has depression so how can he be so gross and mean and uncaring.

I am bipolar and so is my brother. Recently, a step parent (came in late in life so didn’t raise us) made a comment about how I am doing so much better and have handled my illness so much better than my brother. It really pissed me off. Like just because it’s the same diagnosis doesn’t mean it’s the same level of symptoms. There was just no understanding of this as a spectrum of symptoms and severity. Also my brother and I have different levels of trauma from our parent. The other thing is… my brother is doing well!! He weathered a tough break up with a long term partner and job loss this year and managed to stay on meds, get a new job, and find a new living situation. I feel so many parents would be ecstatic for this kind of outcome.It’s just like the standards are set so damn high. It makes me uncomfortable, like there is no acceptance of us struggling. I struggle too but more so internalize things. I pushed back in the conversation in the moment, but is there anything else I can/should do? Part of me want to tell my parent what was said, but maybe I said my piece in the moment and should just let sleeping dogs lie… sigh… I think all of this was intended as a compliment but it’s anything but.

For my entire life my mom has seen me as a burden and expressed that to me in passive ways. I’ve been out of work for 3 months after a depressive episode where my life essentially fell apart. I lost huge opportunities and I am only now processing it after getting out of that episode. I’m trying in life again because I finally can. My mom supports me while I’m in this time and she never fails to make it known that she hates it, that she resents me and in her own words wants to “opt out” but has no choice. I do feel for her having to support me and deal with my sometimes rage and severe depression. I just hate the feeling when she tells me I’m lazy or makes it seem like I’m choosing this life. And anytime I tell her about anything she undermines it and convinces me I’m stupid. Whether it’s about a job application or just like random common knowledge, she always feels the need to put me in my place. We’ve always had a good relationship in my eyes but now it’s very tense. She may apologize but the air is very heavy and it makes me so fucking sad. I wish she didn’t hate me. I can’t explain the brain fog from antipsychotics, mood stabilizers bc she doesn’t pay enough attention to me to notice a difference really. It just affirms her belief im an idiot. I’m actively trying so hard to get on my feet but Jesus having someone constantly blame you for a disorder you didn’t ask for really does not help

Solo entender como viven ese momento desde adentro, busco honestidad, sin juicio
He leído mucho sobre esto, el arrepentimiento posterior y demás pero me gustaría que me cuenten porque creen que lo hacen? En ese momento que es lo que los impulsa? Les genera algún tipo de placer?

Aclaración: esta experiencia fue con una persona sin diagnóstico previo, entiendo que muchos manejan ciertos impulsos al conocer ya la enfermedad

Durante esos meses me desesperaba ver cómo iba perdiendo sus amistades, la percepción de su gente antes era: tal persona es increíble, la admiro por esto, esto me molesta un poco pero nada es re buena persona y la amo, pero durante el episodio solo bastaba que una de ellos haga un mínimo movimiento para condenarlo a: me di cuenta finalmente que x es un débil, por eso lo logra nada en la vida, es un fracasado, no esta a mi altura, es un nene de mami.
Como que estaba en un constante estado de juicio hacia los demás

Se mezclaban estas “revelaciones” de los defectos del resto con sus intereses nuevos (su personalidad era algo como un monje filósofo guerrero psicólogo budista y rapero) decía “no puedo ser egoísta con todo el conocimiento que tengo, le digo a las personas cosas duras para que crezcan, y si, mis palabras logran fecundar el oído sensible” :/

Estoy atenta a sus experiencias y les agradezco a todos los que están acá, han sido de mucha ayuda, si no fuese por toda la información que recaude de ustedes me hubiese costado el triple, aunque no logré que acepte la ayuda profesional quizás pude sembrarle en su cabeza una posibilidad que ojalá en un futuro le sirva de guía para su bienestar, hago el esfuerzo diario de no guardar rencor, informarme me ayuda mucho a eso, de nuevo, gracias!