Wednesday, February 2, 2011

i'm coming out...

yup. it's true.

i was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder II a few years ago. before that, i practically lived my entire life on the cusp of either severe manic or depressive episodes. my family and friends just chalked it up to me being moody, emotional and highly affected by surrounding events. it finally got to the point where the mania and depression would last for days at a time. they would switch back and forth so rapidly that i don't think i had any actual "normal" days anymore. people around me would comment on the mood swings as they were getting worse and i finally decided to step up and get help after having a meltdown at my office. i don't remember what sparked it, but what i do recall is sitting on the floor of the handicapped stall of the women's bathroom and crying uncontrollably.

i started seeing a therapist and after about 3 sessions, she recommended that i see a psychiatrist for further tests. i spent an entire day with him, during which i completed a multitude of tests and sat through many conference calls with my friends and family. as we finished up he finally said what i had been dreading... "you have Bipolar Disorder." i didn't know much about the disorder but i had automatically assumed that it meant that there was something seriously wrong with my brain and that i would have to be on a multitude of medications for the rest of my life and be confined to a facility so i would harm others. he explained that many people with the disorder live normal and sometimes extraordinary lives if they follow their prescribed treatment plans and take steps to minimize any external stressors/agitators.

since i was already taking an anti-depressant, he added in an anti-psychotic and a benzodiazepine for my frequent panic/anxiety attacks. seems like a lot, but the way he saw it was, along with my primary care physician, that my symptoms and individual disorders needed to be treated and that the medication could always be adjusted. they didn't want to run the risk of treating one and having the other throw everything off. it took a few months getting used to the prescriptions, but then everything fell apart... rapidly.

the rest of the story to come on another day. just writing that little bit was truly mentally exhausting.

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