A New Chapter: Finding Myself After the Storm

Mystery Illness?

As discussed in the last chapter, I have gone through several medical tests over the last year to determine if I was truly ill. I have several vitamin deficiencies and hormone imbalances. Those aren't a mystery to anyone really. They're actually quite easy to diagnose.

What wasn't easy to diagnose for my GP (General Practitioner) was why my energy levels weren't leveling out. After nearly 8 months on medications to help, they only slightly worked. So, after talking with several people close to me, I decided to try a therapist. That was my only other option. The last resort to find out what my mystery illness was. Also during this time, I was still hanging onto my relationship. He didn't see the need to see a whacko, which really didn't help matters at all. It was actually one of the final straws for me.

So fast forward two months after my breakup. I finally get in to see a therapist. I go in and the first thing they do is labs. Which meant more needles, and the embarrassing task of having to pee into a tiny cup and give to another person. (I also need to add, that I'm not a morning person, and this appointment was at 8:00 am.) I thought that was all I had to do that day, and was excited to finally get my coffee. (I am addicted.) Nope. I was scheduled to actually see the therapist right after that.

I've always been scared of being labeled crazy, so I never considered going to a therapist until I literally had no other options. Fortunately, the man was kind, and completely understanding of the fact I absolutely hated telling another person about weird things about me. So the observation itself went well on my end. Then came an actual psychological diagnosis that I never saw coming, and one I'm happy I got while single.

Bipolar Disorder. Usually Genetic. Highs and lows. Rapid Cycling. Seroquel. Sleep. Anxiety Disorder. Flashes of bad things. ADHD. Couldn't sit still or focus while in school. Blah, blah, blah, pills, pills, pills. Something wrong with me. Something is wrong with me. There is an actual reason why I have been acting and doing the things I have been over the last year, and several years before that. I'M NOT CRAZY OR MAKING THIS UP!!!

That last sentence ran through my head so many times after he said the words Bipolar Disorder. I'd been told that it was just a phase, that everyone has insomnia, especially in their first year of college. I was told I slept too much because I was lazy and didn't want to be an adult and get a job. I was told I needed to get over whatever I was dealing with, and do what needed to be done that day.

What nobody ever told me was that my father was diagnosed Bipolar years before, or that the weird way my grandfather and mother acted were strong indicators that they also had Bipolar Disorder. That it wasn't normal to have a mental breakdown after driving in a city with a lot of traffic, or jump awake in a panic for no apparent reason. To randomly not be able to stop thinking of every bad thing that could possibly happen to me or those I love. That going through cycles of sleeping a lot and then feeling like I could stay awake for days and get stuff done was actually depressive and manic episodes of Bipolar Disorder. I wished someone would have taken the time to look at the whole picture before they judged me or my actions.

Thankfully, I believe I've finally gotten the right diagnosis and medications. I can actually sleep more than 4 hours a night or less than 20 hours a day. I can finally just be irritated at something, instead of exploding over something small. My mystery illness isn't really a mystery. I have a mood disorder. I'm one of many who deal with these things on a daily basis. While I am not a fan of having to take medications on a daily basis, I can say they have helped a great deal. I go through cycles where I resent having to take them and can't just be normal, but I am at a better place now with them.

This diagnosis explained a lot about what happened in my relationship discussed in the last chapter. It makes me sad that I feel like it was all my fault because of my disorder, but intellectually I realize it wasn't the only reason. I am thankful I have more good days than bad now. So I ask everyone who reads this to please let me know if you relate, or even if you don't but think I'm weird. That's always interesting to hear. Thank you all for reading.