SkyScraper

I walked out and the cold breeze hit my face. My hair moved with the wind as each step brought me closer to my mother's van. She stood quietly as she waited for me to get near her. Finally, she ran up to me in tears and hugged me tightly.

"It will all be alright now babe, we're here for you," she said as she squeezed me.

I looked at her as tears dripped down my bare face.

"I missed you mom," I said and hugged her back.

We continued walking to the van hand in hand. She tightly gripped onto my gloves as if she would never let go of me. I sighed when I saw my dog run out to me. He sniffed and curled near my leg.

I walked to the other side of the car, my mother still holding me, and sat in the passenger seat. I was in no mood to drive. There's so much weight that has been lifted off my shoulders, but now I have to deal with something greater; telling my fans that I'm Bipolar.

It comes as a shock to people. They tend to think that people who have the disorder at completely nuts and can't go a day without punching something in the face. It's stress, that's what I'll call it.

It's not easy trying to keep up with the image people have given you. You need to keep a figure, a style, and a reputation. If not, you're nothing. And that's what you'll be known as. Demi Lavato, who?

My mom walked to the other side of the van as she wiped the tears from her face.

"Let's get you home, beautiful."

She grabbed onto the wheel and drove us home.