Hello

Last year around this time I was diagnosed with Bipolar, "officially".  I had Bipolar for years, but was never officially diagnosed.

The diagnosis scared me - it wasn’t relief - it was fear.  What happens now?  Why am I different?  What is going on?  How do I deal with this?  Will I lose my friends, family, and my job?

Pure panic took over me.  I can remember the next day, being at work convinced that everyone knew and hid in the bathroom stall and cried and cried.  I then faked an illness and went home.

I called my therapist and she talked with me and calmed me down.  She gave me specific directions of how to work through this and also asked me to go see my doctor for some meds for the Bipolar and the panic attacks.  This had me all in a tizzy because now I was going to be taking meds which was something I NEVER wanted to do.

So this started the process.  I was prescribed Zoloft and Clonzapem.  And I was convinced that now that I was taking my meds, seeing my doctor, and regular visits with my therapist - that I was going to be ok.

And I started to feel ok.  And then I started to feel better.  Then I was great!

Then I went on the longest up-cycle I’ve ever had.

I was shopping, spending money we didn’t have, going out, having fun...taking random trips at the last minute, getting inconsistent sleep, eating badly, forgetting to workout or working out for hours at a time, and completely forgot my routine. 

I signed up for grad classes, I opened up an online jewelry store (something that I used to do to calm myself was now a job), joined a gym, hired a trainer, bought myself shoes, clothes, ughhh I was on cloud nine or so I thought.

During all of this - I was also cancelling my therapy sessions.  I was ignoring my therapist’s emails and calls.  She kept talking about how this was a partnership and we had to work together and I just ignored it - I had no intention of being her partner - I was fine - I was doing great!

I even tried to go back to drinking.  Thinking I can handle one drink.  Well luckily - the drink tasted HORRIBLE and I didn’t drink it (I have a history of alcohol and substance abuse).

Then Saturday I woke up - ready to spring out of bed and I had this overwhelming sense of guilt.  I couldn’t get out of bed.  I slept all day on Saturday.  Then Sunday I was irritated and irrational.  I didn’t want to go to my once "awesome" job the next day and was thinking of ways to get out of it.

I went to work on Monday and I was miserable, stuck in my own little he**.  I then reached out to my therapist.  She squeezed me in on Tuesday (yesterday) and we were set to meet.  The guilt got worse.  I knew she would be upset with me.  I knew I screwed up and then I just kept beating myself up.

So I walked in on Tuesday and we had a very frank and honest discussion - and she was tough with me and helped me to understand that - I’m Bipolar (she even made me say it out loud).  I may hate it, I may wish it would go away, but its not.  I’m never going to beat it.  But, what I can do is manage it.  And learn to manage it.  Surprisingly, even though I tried to push her out....she was still more than willing to work with me.  She said she cared about me and she has a vested interest in helping me get healthy and to manage this better.