I witnessed one of your manic episodes today. I'll be honest, it shook me up. It scared me. Why? Because it immediately brought flashbacks of how my mother used to act and treat me during her "episodes" with her verbal abuse, and the thought and fear of her hurting me physically, even though she never did. So I automatically figured you would barge in and do the same thing. I don't think you realized I was in my room though. The house was quiet, my dad was out working, my mom off with her friends, and my brother was also working.
You need help, you really do. From what I know, you're extremely bipolar and you have an eating disorder. I've tried my best so far to help you. I've picked up flyers and brochures for therapy and counseling, yet all you do is cast them aside. You constantly complain you have no money, yet every single day for the past two weeks you've gone out and spent money. Every time you talk to your parents on the phone, you treat them awful. I don't know how your past is with your parents, as I haven't exactly heard good things, but I do know they have a heart and they try their best to make you happy now. I've tried talking to you about it, about everything, and you don't even care. It hurts me to see you like this, it really does. It hurts me even more that you don't take me seriously. I KNOW I'm 11 years younger than you. Just because I'm almost 19, look a lot younger, and keep to myself most of the time doesn't mean I don't have anything worth saying.
Listen to me, just for once.
Just listen to me. Please.