That Crazy Bipolar Girl
The last thing I expected to hear from my psychologist was, “You’re bipolar.”
What?? I paid you so you could test me for ADHD. I didn’t ask you whether you thought I was bipolar.
I can’t be bipolar. I’m not crazy. I thought of all the crazy people in movies and TV. Somehow all the examples I could think of were of people throwing things.
I didn’t do that. So therefore I couldn’t be bipolar.
I went to a psychiatrist and I showed her the psychologists diagnosis. We sat down and talked for a little bit and she actually AGREED with my psychologist.
No this was not happening.
I could feel the craziness starting to grow on my face.
I went home to do some research.
I looked up symptoms of bipolar.
-Great Mood/ Euphoria
Well, I mean I have restless periods where I absolutely have to do something creative or I go crazy, but I consider this moments of inspiration.
-Inability to complete tasks
There is that album that I’ve been working on for years. I also have countless paintings that I have left to finish.
I mean, who hasn’t had a bout of depression?
My mom actually calls me her grumpy child. Like you should see my baby photo.
Gangsta from birth, yo.
Ha! I don’t have this! Occasionally there’s accidental combining of words but no fast talking.
-Trouble at Work
Okay, I’m starting to believe it more now. I’ve had like 10 jobs in the past 8 years. Not a good track record.
-Alcohol or Drug Abuse
Thank goodness my religion doesn’t let me drink alcohol or do drugs. And thank goodness I actually follow my religion. I could be in a lot of trouble right now.
If spending sprees count then I guess I have this. This one time at Ulta… sigh.
Okay I’m back.
-Flight of Ideas/ Rapid Thoughts
I haven’t actually experienced this until recently and it is really uncomfortable. It’s like that feeling when you’re on a road trip and you just want to be home already but you realize you’re trapped in the car for another 3 hours. It’s like that over and over and over again.
Basically, I went online trying to prove that I didn’t have bipolar disorder and ended up having my life described to me.
It was official. I was crazy.
But I didn’t feel crazy.
To me, I was still normal Roxie that was fun and reckless and didn’t like to follow rules. I’m young and I do what I want.
It was really just bipolar the whole time.
But calling it bipolar made it scary.
And a lot more serious.
What was I going to tell my friends, the ones who loved me for my apparently psychotic self?
Sorry guys, but I’ve been wrong my whole life. I’m going to take my meds and become boring.
I really felt like I was losing apart of myself.
I talked to my doctors and they said that what I was feeling was normal (ha!). They explained the meds wouldn’t change who I was as a person. I would still enjoy breaking rules and shopping and dancing in the middle of stores. What the meds did was make sure that I wasn’t feeling excessively high or low. They explained it like bumpers in a bowling alley. While I could still do all the things I loved, the meds were there to make sure I wasn’t doing really stupid stuff, like spending all my money on make-up or getting arrested for trespassing or other dangerous stuff.
I guess I could handle that.
For better or worse, this is who I am.
The crazy now-recovering bipolar girl.