Five Days Ago

As I sit in bed, wishing that sleep would just come for me already. It crushes every ounce of my being. Five days ago, everything changed. Five days ago, I was different. Five days ago, I was anxious and depressed. Five days ago, I was broken. Five days ago, I was picking up the pieces to recreate my masterpiece. Five days ago, everything changed.

When you suffer from mental illness, you already have a warped and distorted view of yourself. Being honest about your illness is exhausting. Five days ago I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. For much of my life, my doctors and myself included believed it was Generalized Anxiety Disorder and depression. Doctors, therapists and friends always maintaining that “after all you have been through” how could you not. It wasn’t until the medication (Prozac, Paxil, Cipralex, Cymbalta and the most recent Wellbutrin) was not working that I was referred to a psychiatrist. One after the other causing side effects and reliving my anxiety in the most minor of ways. As I sat I front if him, he complimented my strength. “For everything you do on a daily basis you really are an amazing girl.” He smiled and continued “you know what this is don’t you?” I cannot recall if tears were streaming down my face as a rapid pace prior to this moment. I couldn’t say it. “It is Bipolar, but you already knew that didn’t you.” I was unable to speak at this point. “This is nothing to be ashamed of.” He said. “We can treat this you know.” His words rattled in my brain until I could see his mouth moving but could no longer hear his words. Did I know this? Could I be that blind? How is this possible. Every bit of me that I had repaired, crumbled.

I left his office, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t control it. A group of ladies gawking as I beeline straight to my car. Tears are burning my cheeks and eyes. She did her best to comfort me, my best friend is a fucking saint. I commend her effort. I felt like I had died. I felt damaged. I felt confused, scared, angry. I wanted someone to blame. I wanted to light stuff on fire. I wanted to be held. Feeling every possible emotion all at once is debilitating.

It wasn’t until yesterday that it really hit me. I have a psychiatric illness, a brain disorder, a disease. Now i do not want your sympathy or for you to think I am stuck in pity party mode. I am one stubborn, strong, and determined individual with a fucked up and distorted view on my own self worth. I am relived to know what it is and now to move forward however, that does not change how this feels. I go back and forth from accepting, to angry, to denial, to any other possible emotion  I can feel. My mental illness is not me. I have always been one to educate the uneducated on mental illness. One to try and allievate the stigma attached to it but in this moment I am fearful, I am scared. This is new territory for me, learning about my sickness. I want to know everything, I want to share everything. Most of all, I want to feel whole. I don’t want to be broken.

#bipolar #bipolardisorder #mentalillness #youcantbreakme

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