This may be polarizing information (lol), but I have bipolar disorder.
Did this post suddenly get a little too vulnerable for some of you? TMI? Trust me, I get it. Mental illness can cause a lot of off-putting behaviors, so there is definitely a lot of stigma around talking openly about it. I try my best to change how people view that conversation simply by being as honest as possible. So if you’re already uncomfortable, fair warning… it’s only going to get worse from here.
At this point in my treatment, I’m on a regimen of medication that helps me be a functional human. It’s not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, and it will be a daily battle for the rest of my life, but I’m okay. Better than okay, most of the time. But it wasn’t always this way.
I’ll talk a lot more in depth about my mental health journey in future posts, but here are the bare bones of it:
- From birth to my 20th birthday, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I skipped school, would drive off in the middle of the night, cut myself, and lied. A lot. To everyone.
- A couple of days after my birthday, I tried to kill myself.
- After my attempt, they wouldn’t discharge me from the hospital until I agreed to intensive outpatient therapy.
- I attended IOT for three weeks, seven hours a day five days a week. I got kicked out because I constantly overslept. Most significantly, they diagnosed me as bipolar.
- For the next four years, I tried a lot of different combinations of medication. I lost/quit a lot of jobs. My manic depression cycle continues to this day, to varying degrees.
Because of my diagnosis, I am alive and functioning. When I take my medication, I manage my life decently. When I don’t, I self-destruct.
I think it’s important to talk about these things. Hopefully, as I continue to overshare on this blog, it might help someone out there be a little kinder to themselves on their journey. At the very least, it’s therapeutic for me, so yay! No downsides.