This post is one I have written time after time because I don’t know exactly how to talk about it, but it is a huge part of my life.
Last February I went in for what I thought was a routine appointment for my anxiety diagnosis that I already knew about. Fast forward after a two-hour appointment, and I was given a life-changing diagnosis of bipolar depression disorder, which means I was also diagnosed with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and manic episodes. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to hear.
The only things I really knew about bipolar depression were from television or media, which showed bipolar people as crazy lunatics who couldn’t keep it together. I didn’t think that was me, and I hoped it wasn’t me, but sure enough, the diagnosis made a ton of sense. I had struggled with times of depression and manic episodes for a long time, and so the diagnosis cleared a lot of things up for me.
My depression manifested itself in lack of energy, motivation, and will to live. I wouldn’t move from my bed for days, and I would constantly skip classes. I physically couldn’t move because of panic attacks and what felt like paralysis. My manic episodes were times when I felt on top of the world. I would do stupid things and speak nonsense. I would make super ambitious plans that I could never follow through on. I didn’t study because I thought I was too smart for it. I would drive erratically, stay out past curfew, or treat everyone insanely awful. Neither period of time was good for me at all.
And when I wasn’t depressed or manic, I was having panic attacks on the regular. I lost seven pounds in one month from panic attacks and anxiety causing me not to eat, only to gain back twice as much the next time I went into a depressive state.
Bipolar was a lot of things that meant I wasn’t a lunatic. Every diagnosis was bittersweet; it meant I had to add another thing to my laundry list of things going wrong. But it also meant I could address a problem I had been struggling with for a while. I could get medication and therapy that would help me be a better person and better manage my diagnosis.
It is almost a year later, and I will tell you honestly it has not gotten easier. I have gone through a number of different medications that have had horrible side effects. I have seen myself go through manic and depressive periods faster than ever. I constantly feel like I’m spiraling out of control. But overall I am thankful for the doctor who diagnosed me and the diagnosis that I received. Being able to spot a problem and fix it before I ended up even worse was a huge deal, and I’m thankful.
Bipolar depression is not an easy thing to live with or write about because you never know how people are going to treat you. But it’s important that people learn about it and understand that bipolar disorder is a real struggle, and when you say, “Oh, she’s crazy bipolar,” it’s not helping anyone’s situation.
