Slept until 4pm

I think I feel better... Why did I even sleep until 4, anyway? I just didn't wake up. I was having vivid dreams, but none of the usual shit (having to clean up an enormous house, having to pack all my stuff, being trapped in a motel, etc). Just... nice, fun dreams. 
I want to vacuum, but I'm so lazy. I've been meaning to vacuum for days. Or weeks. Maybe I'll just do it. Since I went to all the trouble to mention it here.
Why am I even doing this journal? Last night I had this feeling of terror: I am going to be defined by my illness. Without even trying. Bipolar is a WHOLE 'nother ballgame from depression/anxiety.
You say, "I have depression."
Other person says, "Oh, that sucks."
You say, "I have bipolar."
Other person says, "WHOOOA HOLD UP NOW. DOES THAT MEAN YOU'RE GONNA KILL ME?! DOES THAT MEAN YOU CAN'T CONTROL YOURSELF?! I SAW A MOVIE ABOUT SOMEONE WITH BIPOLAR AND SHE KEPT JAMES CAAN PRISONER AND MADE HIM WRITE A BOOK! YOU'RE GONNA TAKE ME PRISONER AND MAKE ME WRITE A BOOK, AREN'T YOU! DON'T LIE TO ME!"
 
Well, yeah. Vacuum. And don't censor yourself, Celly. Keep this journal honest.