Yesterday was the big day, and I will tell you I worked myself up pretty good about going to face the dreaded psychiatrist. It didn’t help that my neck of the woods is in the middle of a bitter cold snap and the appointment was about 40 minutes away and I had to drive on the highway in snowing, blowing BS to get there. But I did it. I got there, sat in the beautiful lobby and waited, and waited, because why wouldn’t he be running behind.
He came out, called my name and my knuckles had turned white from gripping my purse handle for 20 minutes. He led me to his warm office and I sat down just quaking. He asked a lot of questions, some things I would never have thought to ask and after about 45 minutes of that he told me that I am bipolar. Bipolar II to be precise, and that the voice in my head was not a concern because he thinks its a reflection of my inner life being poor and terrible.
Swallowing the words bipolar II was not as hard as I thought it would be, I now have a face with the name and can plan an attack. Reading up on this diagnoses was interesting, like reading a summary of my life. The sad part is that I didn’t know the symptoms, and the only reason most people with Bipolar are diagnosed is that they get so depressed something happens forcing them to seek help finally. Most people with this disorder can go years in this cycle of extreme highs and lows and not know that it is not normal. They push people away and never realize they are doing it. Its a viscous cycle that doesn’t end on its own.
But now I have a place to start and I hope that I can continue to chronicle it here. If you are struggling with depression, don’t wait to seek help, you really aren’t alone, there is a world of us out there that get it and get you.