Being Bipolar

I didn’t have friends really growing up. The few I had were never BFF’s. I would do something with them when they asked but I never went out of my way to include them in my life. I honestly would rather sit and read then do anything with a friend. Or even my family. I spent a lot of time in the back of the car or in my bedroom reading. It was my escape mechanism. And that is when I think my bipolar started to kick in.


I definitely was told that I had “something” wrong with me when I was 16. It was a school counselor. I think I may have over shared about something because a call was placed to my mom and I was confronted when I got home. I learned at that point to stop talking about my feelings and even my thoughts.

I struggled with being depressed for the next couple of years but I ignored it for the most part. I was never the life of a party or someone that got excited. If anything, I would bring the mood down in a room. It made it easier to be sluggish and nonresponsive because I then didn’t have to actually do anything. I didn’t want to work at being in a relationship so I just didn’t. I’ve had a few boyfriends but nothing serious until I got married. I would bounce from guy to guy because I tended to get along with them more. But I never stayed long.

I was 23 when I was officially diagnosed as being bipolar. 23 was a very bad year. I rocketed up and down so many times over that year. One great thing was that I got Milo then. I had no intention of getting a dog. Hadn’t even thought about it. But my impulsive manic side kicked in that day and I came home with the man of my dreams. Milo truly saved me a thousand times over. I wanted to just sink into the darkness. It was dark and comforting. I would lose hours of the day, just dipping into the blackness. I know there were times that I would go off in a red rage and just scream my frustration, fear and sadness. I was in a horrible place. And it all came down to one day, asking for help and not really getting it. It was the 2nd time I had asked for help. I do not ask for help. I am strong enough to do this on my own damn it. But I was even deeper then the blackness. It was darker then the inside of a hole. I was drowning. These are all things that are signs of deep depression and I was losing control. I am a control freak because of being bipolar. If I could just control my thoughts and reactions, I would be fine. I used to squash myself into this tiny little space in my head, making sure that I had constant control over what I did and what I thought. It was an exercise in futility many times but it got me through the next 10 years.

I have been on and off medication since I was 23. I stop taking it because I’m feeling better and so I should be OK, right? But ultimately I end up back in the dark and I struggle to crawl my way out of it. I was hospitalized in 2007 because I was not safe to be alone. I knew that and asked for help. I got it this time but only because I was so close to the cutting edge that I scared everyone in my family and those friends I had. It was good in a sense. I started taking my meds 100% of the time and I saw improvement. And I made some changes to my life shortly after that. Really major changes. And change, for me, is hard because if I don’t know how to handle the situation, I have no idea what to do. So if I control everything to go my way, I know what to expect. I know how to prepare myself.

There are times where I lose all control. I have two minds. There are about 12 people in my head at any given time. And it gets really crowded in there. There is the main mind that knows right from wrong, keeps appointments, knows how to talk through feelings. But I call it my bipolar mind that are those 12 people and is constantly trying to bombard me with propaganda about how I’m not a good person. For the most part I have the ability to tune these voices out and do what is right and expected of me. But there are times where they are sneaky bastards because they’ll slip in here and there. I’ll be ½ way through something that I had no intention doing but somehow I have stepped into the place where I think it’s a good idea. This does not mean that I am not to be held accountable for things. Absolutely not. I am responsible for my actions. And I try really hard to learn from these experiences. But sometimes I am not able to catch myself before I get into something. Money and food are huge for me. I will spend every cent I have and then some just because I have an impulse to do something and I MUST ACT ON IT…immediately.

I was never really manic for long periods of time. Maybe a day but closer to an hour or two. But the last 3 months (and probably longer) I have been extremely manic. Going without food. Having to take sleeping pills to get any kind of sleep. I spent major money on just crap. I would talk 300 miles a minute when I did talk. And I was constantly moving around. Couldn’t sit still. But I didn’t see it. At all. A friend of mine actually told me and as soon as she said it, I totally saw it. I saw how I had been acting like a crazy woman. I didn’t see it at the time. So I had to go to my doctor and talk to them about it. They put me on more medication. And it’s better. I have some major side effects from the meds but it’s working and I don’t want to mess with that.

Now, I find myself unprepared sometimes. I’ve been dealing with this for 13 years. I’ve been medicated consistently for 3 years. But I feel like I’m getting worse in some ways. At least I’m not doing as well as I had been or where I would like to be. Maybe because I’m distracted? Getting a little cocky? I don’t know. But I’ve had to change some of my meds, which I hate. I am nowhere near the deepest darkness I found myself at 23 but it’s getting dusky. I’m not in danger from myself. That is one thing that has been a huge blessing over the last year. I have been given the gift of valuing my life. I could never hurt myself. It would hurt too many people and I couldn’t do that to people. But I find that I am letting things slip. And I think that just means I have to try harder. Talk to more people, ask for help if I need it, stay on the meds and definitely keep active. Sitting around does not help me mentally.

I think the biggest thing is talking about it. I’ve always been a bit shy about talking to people and definitely don’t want them to know that I am not perfect. But I think it’s my responsibility to talk to those in my life. Make them understand my side of the situation. I’ve never been very forthright with what it is that I go through. My parents had no idea the actual issues with bipolar until I told my mom the other day what it’s like to live in my head. She never understood the slippery slope that is wound around my necessary discipline. She never understood why I had to control my situations. I don’t think she has ever had an impulse that she hasn’t been able to control. She doesn’t understand my need to do the same thing over and over again. And the constant campaign from my bipolar mind to destroy my view of myself. How do you explain to someone how full of hate you have for yourself? I don’t need anyone to abuse me; I do a good enough job on my own.

With all that said…did you even know that I was like this? I’m betting not. I’m betting you thought I was pretty confident and sturdy. That just shows what a good job I have done to make sure no one knows what my issues are. But this shouldn’t be something to be proud of. I need people to know about this. Because I don’t want to jump off the deep end some day and no one understand what happened. And it keeps me accountable.

I’m good today. I have moments of complete bafflement but I have been doing more on my spiritual program and I have been talking to people. Each opinion from them helps solidify in my mind what should be done. And I am taking an aggressive stance with my mind today. Each day is better than the last but then the next day could be horrible. I just never know what is going to be my reaction for the day but I have actions I can take to change that day. Because I do have that ability. I have the right to start my day over at any time. And I have control over what I do, I just have to exercise that control. This means constant vigilance but I think my life is worth being on the constant defense.

I typically try to keep this blog upbeat and funny. But this is what I am dealing with right now and I feel obligated to tell my story. Not because I think it will make you like or hate me more but because you might know someone that has these traits and maybe you can help them. Because we rarely ask for help and for someone to put out their hand and offer to walk with them…that’s huge.

Pretty good page about bipolar. Treatments, symptoms, etc…

Bipolar Disorder - Wikipedia

I also recommend “The Up and Down Life” by Paul E Jones. He makes the disorder funny in parts but absolutely heartbreaking in others. But pretty good about what I went through and what I currently go through. He also had a drinking problem and I definitely identify with that.

The Up and Down Life - Paul E Jones

Thank you for letting me put this up. It is actually very therapeutic to have written this. Not all details are here but enough to make others understand.