About Me

Well, the about me spot on the profile wouldn't let me type enough to tell you all about me so I'm creating a post to do just that. I'm bpgirl87, short for bipolar girl. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in late May after a tumultuous couple of months. I was first diagnosed with depression four years ago while I was in the hospital recovering from an eating disorder. The doctors there put me on Zoloft and I was on it for the next three and a half years until I realized that I had no emotions on that medicine and that I was basically a walking zombie. That's not to say that this medicine isn't right for other people, I just think that I was originally misdiagnosed and that the Zoloft just managed to cover up the symptoms for so long. For about a year and a half, I had been noticing that I couldn't cry, especially about things that I "should" be crying about, and that I didn't really get happy or excited about things, that I had to remind myself to feel these emotions. I didn't figure out what was wrong with me (yes, I'm slow) until last October. So I stopped taking my medicine, without the help of a doctor (yes, that's very dangerous). Things started to really fall apart from there. To give you the short version of what happened, I broke up with my boyfriend, started drinking and using drugs after being sober for two years, got a minor in possession, got back together with my boyfriend, got sober again, got a ticket for going 125 mph on the highway, became very violent, lost a lot of important things to me (such as my ipod) because I just couldn't keep track of things, and starting having mini nervous breakdowns. I was going 125 mph because I was angry with my boyfriend, and so I lost all rational thought and just started going as fast as I possibly could, not considering the consequences of my actions. That seemed to be a common theme over those few months, I just didn't think about the consequences or I just didn't care. I became very violent with my boyfriend who I love very much and who has been nothing but extremely supportive of me. We would get in knock-down, drag-out fights over big and small things. These fights included me trying to hit him, poke him in the eye, kick his balls, anything to hurt him and him trying desperately to restrain me, usually by holding on to my hair. Then I would begin crying uncontrollably and shaking and rubbing things compulsively. These episodes are what really freaked out my boyfriend and he implored me to go see a psychiatrist. I was already seeing a psychologist, but, given my history of drug abuse, he was reluctant to send me to see a psychiatrist to get on medication. But since all of these thing were happening and I was seriously starting to think that I was crazy, I told him that I really felt like I needed to see one. These violent, crazy episodes were punctuated with short, minor depressions. Nothing so bad that I couldn't ge out of bed, but enough to affect my life and my school work. I would still carry on with my routine (but only because I'm obsessive about it), but my heart wasn't in anything. My boyfriend and family could always tell when I was depressed because you could see it on my face. Thus, it was time to see a psychiatrist. So I went for my first appointment May 31st. After filling out about twenty pages of forms (no joke) before I went and then answering about one hundred questions once I got there, he told me that he thought I was bipolar. I have always had this kind of secret desire to be bipolar, because I already had the depressions, and so I would love to be able to stay up all night and not have to eat and have all the "good" parts of being manic. Of course, I just ended up with the "bad" effects of a manic episode. I don't typically stay up all night or eat less, I'm just very irritable, get violent, and spend excessive amounts of money. So I was honestly shocked when the doctor told me that I was bipolar. I didn't think that this could be possible because I didn't stay up all night or any of the other things I previously mentioned. But he told me that since I was highly irritable ten days out of ten, and that I had gotten violent he felt that it was a correct diagnosis. So now I'm bipolar and I'm really trying not to let my life be defined by the fact that I am. I've decided not to tell anyone except obviously my boyfriend and my immediate family. I was originally reticent about telling even my immediate family because I was afraid that they wouldn't be able to not tell the whole world, but I eventually decided that they are part of my support system and they need to know if they're going to be able to help me. So that's pretty much it about me, feel free to ask any questions and I'll answer them honestly. Welcome to my blog!