A bit of background

You might be wondering why I decided to write a blog about such a personal subject. I was wondering, too. Then I realized that nearly all of the people in my life pretend that this issue does not exist for me at all. Instead I'm just a little bit "odd" or "quirky" and "troubled" but I most certainly am not bipolar. Like many blogs, this is a way for me to talk about my experiences to a faceless stranger...maybe so someone can learn a little, or maybe to validate that this really *is* a part of my daily life.

I was diagnosed bipolar II about 10 years ago, after being treated for episodes of depression for about 6 years. I tend to have bottomless depression with periods of rapid cycling hypomania, and episodes of "mixed states" - severe depression accompanied by high levels of anxiety and agitation. To add some extra fun to the mix, there is definitely a seasonal component involved. Unmedicated, I rapid cycle with a strong emphasis on hypomania during the summer. I remember as a small child wondering if I had been a sun worshipper...summers were always the best of times for me. I felt smarter, faster, happier...even if I was pretty anxious.

Even as a 6 yr old, I knew there was something different about me. I was an avid reader and tended to get swept away in stories and had a very rich imagination...a little too rich. As my responsibilities and stress levels increased, I started to swing more toward depressive episodes. Crying at a drop of a hat. Feeling overwhelmingly responsible for everything. The first time I tried to take my own life I was 12. I knew that radiator fluid killed dogs, so I went into the garage and poured myself a nice big cup of it. My parents weren't supposed to be home for another hour. As I was getting ready to drink it, my dad's car pulled up in the driveway. I put down the cup and ran. He later found it, but didn't say anything. I guess he figured my younger brother had been playing in it.

Fast forward through high school and my B.S. in college. Severe bouts of depression caused me to miss a lot of class, but I pulled good grades. My symptoms continued escalate exponentially. During grad school, when I was formally diagnosed with bipolar, things were spinning out of control. I could barely keep up with anything and was in way over my head...trying to manage pretty severe symptoms and a very stressful, round the clock work load. Sprinkle in a few serious suicide attempts (overdoses) with resulting ER visits and a short stay in a psychiatric ward where I thought I would get help...but honest to god was asked to do macaroni art, and you can guess what happened to my master's program. It disappeared. I was unable to finish.

I worked in a laboratory for over 5 years. Was diagnosed with a non life-threatening, but severely painful syndrome (intracranial hypertension). When combined with bipolar, resulted in me becoming disabled.

"Gee, Mom. Can I grow up and become disabled?" I never remember asking that question. It was never a goal in my life. But here it is. And here I am.