For those of you who don’t already know it, I’m bipolar. That one scary word… that brings all kinds of crazy thoughts to your mind. I’m tired of this illness being stigmatized so much. Yeah it’s a mental illness, but it isn’t much different from (which is a socially acceptable and very common mental illness). There are different types of bipolar disorder, but the gist of it is the people with this affliction have of moderate to extreme happiness (mania) as well as of moderate to extreme sadness (). It is just as treatable as . I’m sick of being judged for being bipolar. It sure isn’t something I wanted or asked for, but it is a card I’ve been dealt. I struggle with it every second of every day. I will never be “cured,” but I’m being treated and doing a lot better.

I denied that anything was wrong for years because I didn’t want to admit that there was something wrong with me. I rationalized my actions – the constant partying, shopping sprees, outrageous sexual behavior, fits of rage, cutting, , urges, etc – as being normal, a part of growing up. I didn’t want to admit it to myself and I sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to know what was happening. I became a master of deception, but only in how I presented myself. When I could I acted as normal as possible, but I could only maintain the farce for brief periods of time, after which I would retreat to my room, where I was free to cycle through the mood fluctuations in secrecy. I always dealt with it myself, the best I could. As twisted as it may sound, the most therapeutic act for me (besides writing) was cutting or . It always made me feel better, much better than drinking, eating, or smoking weed would. I would bleed the emotional pain that I repressed away. Eventually, I couldn’t cover it up any longer (last August is when I finally admitted there was something wrong) because this affliction gets worse over the years, especially without treatment. It got to the point I couldn’t deny it any longer and I finally got help… but still only after lots of persuading from and and one suicide attempt too many. If those 2 hadn’t been here for me last summer I know without a doubt that I would be dead.

But anyways, my are lined out now and I am doing a lot better. I get sick of taking the every fucking day, but I know I have to do it. Some days it’s a lot harder than others because when I feel good I think “hey, I’m better now so there isn’t a need to take the ”, but once they get out of my system (especially when I abruptly stop taking them) I have very severe depressive episodes. The last major depressive episode I had lasted 6 months and literally almost killed me several times. My have kept me alive and semi-normal for the last 4 months. The aren’t a miracle cure. I still have symptoms sometimes, but they are a lot more manageable now.

I still cut or bloodlet occasionally. It’s something I have to consciously avoid doing day by day, like recovering alcoholics do with , or recovering addicts do with drugs. The relapses are getting a lot less frequent. I’ve noticed a pattern though; I’m more likely to cut or bloodlet when I’m involved with someone. It usually begins when the relationship is transitioning from the casual stage into something more serious.

From April 2003 (when and I split up) until March of this year I pushed men away as soon as it got to that stage (with the exception of Brian because I had dated him so many times before). Since March 2006 I have been making an effort to stop pushing men away. Damn, it is not an easy feat!

I started dating another guy named Brian in March. In April, I started cutting again. Things had gotten too deep and he was getting to know me too well. I got scared and ran him off. The way I got him out of my life was mean and I feel guilty about it.

I started dating a week later. Things went really well for me and him for 5 weeks, but during the 6th week I started bloodletting (sticking a needle in a vein and letting the blood flow). I did it every day and by the end of that week I had 17 needle holes in my left arm. I stopped talking to within 10 days later.

Since the end of June I haven’t been dating anyone because I need time to figure out why I’m compelled to hurt myself when I start caring about a man before I get back into another relationship. I’m also trying to chill on sexually acting out. I’ve added too many notches in my bedpost over the last 2 years.

The break is allowing me to concentrate on my , friends, career and education. I have one semester left then I’ll have my Associates degree in liberal arts. Then I’m going to OU. My career at DirecTV is progressing beautifully. I’m moving up rather quickly. I am repairing my relationship with my mother and I’m making new friends.

Right now, I my life despite all the bullshit I’ve gone through and the fact that I’m bipolar. I’m still a firm believer in the philosophy that everything happens for a reason.

For more information about bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses:

www.dbsalliance.org
www.nimh.nih.gov
www.nami.org

On this day..