I have bipolar disorder type II. This means that I go between feeling depressed and "okay" (hypomanic) rather than depressed and manic. Because of that, it's one of the hardest mental disorders to diagnose. It's something that even after taking three psychology courses I had never heard of it until I was actually diagnosed. Since nobody seems to be talking about it, I will.
It's something that I've apparently always had. The first time I felt depressed was when I was 13 and someone close to me was killed in a car accident. I had just moved a state away from my friends and school, so it just added on to the pile. After a few months, I was "okay" for about a year. At the end of my freshman year of high school, I fell into depression again. This continued to happen, and still is. I would go months being depressed, followed by months of being "okay." Each time, the depression would be worse than the last. My senior year of high school I practically lived in my guidance counselor's office, if I was actually at school. But I continued to go through the motions because I had accepted that I was just a depressed person.
It wasn't until I was 19 that I started having panic attacks. Having that thrown into the equation was great, let me tell you about it. I would have them at work, at home, at school...pretty much anywhere. I started seeing a therapist weekly. This happened for about three months.
And then I was suddenly okay. My therapist sent me on my way, told me to call her if I felt like I needed to come back. My panic attacks ceased and I was actually happy. I had turned 20, moved into my own apartment, earned A's in all of my classes and worked two jobs.
Then January 2016 rolled around with the worst depression that had ever hit. I couldn't get out of bed some days, something that really never happened in the past. One day I didn't get out of bed until 9:30 PM to brush my teeth and I collapsed into tears because I just didn't have the energy. After that, I went back to my therapist who said it was time for some antidepressants.
One of the tale-tell signs of bipolar II is apparently what happens after taking antidepressants. For the three week period that I was on one, I was manic. I did things that I would normally have never done. It was the worst feeling ever; even worse than being depressed because I couldn't recognize myself.
From March to about July, I saw a psychiatrist monthly and a therapist weekly. I wasn't "fixed" or "cured" or anything; I just decided that I would be better off without taking medication and honestly I couldn't afford weekly therapy any longer. I was really nervous about moving down to Wilmington for school, as two years ago I had dropped out of community college because I was depressed. But so far, over a month into classes, things are good.
Some days are better than others. Some days it takes me hours to get out of bed, or I have to force myself to take a shower even though I don't have the energy. Some days I can go and hang out with friends for hours and be completely fine. Some days the smallest things trigger my anxiety. But some other days, I actually feel happy. I've joined clubs and have made friends in the Creative Writing department and I actually hang out with them! I don't mind being out of the house anymore, or even sitting in the living room. I can go to the dining hall and eat by myself without feeling anxious! Right now, I am good; I am "up;" I am happy. Am I scared for the next time I'll fall? Yes. But now that I know how to handle it, I'll be ready.
So why am I sharing this? How could I be okay sharing something so personal? I'm not sure. Part of me is scared to have this be published, but I know that people don't understand mental illness if it's not talked about. Some people might be going through the same thing I did, being misdiagnosed as just depressed for the longest time. Me telling my story might help others realize that they're not alone, and I promise you that you aren't: 43.8 million Americans have a mental illness and 5.7 million Americans are bipolar. I hope that from reading this, I help someone who might be afraid to seek help, or isn't sure what they have. I promise you that no matter what you're going through, it is okay to seek help in any way, shape or form.