Oh, come in

It is an honor to have you. The contents for this blog are from my personal experiences. Sometimes I will write about being bipolar and sometimes I won't.

Monday, December 16, 2013

When did you start taking the Bipolar seriously?

How long after you being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder (BD) did it take for you to take your mental illness seriously? Because i don't believe it happens overnight. I know mine didn't...my taking it seriously.

I think as far back as 8 years old I can recall having insomnia and excessive energy. I recall staying up watching cars drive in our neighborhood. And at christmas time I would have hallucinations of Santa in our living room. I woke my brother up once to see Santa and he told me Santa wasn't real so I went back to bed and watched the old man until I fell asleep. I was about 8 years old.

Soon my behavior warranted my school to send me to counseling which I did but I did not take it seriously. I lied to the therapist about everything I could as a mental game of one upmanship.

At 13 I was put on sleeping/anxiety meds and by the time I was 18 I was diagnosed Bipolar. But I didn't take it seriously until I was maybe 23. Patrick (my man) made me want to get well. He made me believe I could be well.

What made you think you could be well? I am so curious as to how things developed for those out there suffering.

(Update: my meds have been keeping me regulated mentally and emotionally. Go meds!)


  1. My wake up moment was about 2 years ago when I was manic and up and left a good man that treats me and my kids very well, and moved across country again. I wasn't clinically diagnosed BP until after that happened, but after I got the diagnosis, I looked back on all I have done and a light bulb went off, like "ooohhh so thats why I have felt so psycho for so long". The doc I started with was horrid and made me worse, I'm with a new doc and therapist now and am on meds that are actually working, so things are good for right now.

    1. Oh that is wonderful that treatment is working so well for you. I couldn't imagine picking up and leaving but I can relate to the bad doctor situation. It is always good to hear from you LLL.

  2. My realization that I had Bipolar Disorder was when I was 30, when I had my first manic episode and was hospitalized for 4 weeks in a locked ward of a psychiatric hospital as I believed that I was "invincible" and I took risks unknownly were harmful to me. I accepted I had Bipolar Disorder shortly after I left hospital, but I had many more admissions and med changes after that. I haven't been in hospital for over 2 years now, nearly 3. My Bipolar holds me back a lot, from doing things I want to do with my life, but I have accepted my life, appreciate it for what I have, and am always experiencing new things that I love. Great to blog again with you In the Pink :)

    1. Oh wow Susan...that sounds really intense! I had no idea you were hit so hard during your manias. Thank goodness you have come through all of that on top....it is something to be very proud of when you are able to keep yourself on your treatment plan and staying out of the hospitals for so long. I think I am going on 8 or nine years. Let's keep up the good work. It is so good to hear from you again!

  3. I am new to your blog, but what got me and makes me want to comment is your statement "I am more than my illness." I say that constantly. I am not Bipolar, that is an illness, I have Bipolar Disorder. I am more than my illness.

    I find it interesting that you had a sense of something being different when you were 8. That was when my depression started, when I first wanted to kill myself. I have always tended toward the depression side of BD. I didn't understand suicide or the concept of killing myself back then but I knew I didn't want to exist anymore. I was "too sensitive" and yes, everything hurt me. I now find that to be an attribute instead of a fault.

    I was diagnosed after my 2nd child was born, right before a recognizable bout of mania, and placed on antidepressants. I went days without sleep, caring for a newborn and 4 yr old in a brand new house in a city where I knew no one. I was cleaning the grout in my shower with a toothbrush when I could't take it anymore. I attempted to get some sleep with a bottle of sleeping pills and enough alcohol to get alcohol poisoning. That landed me in ICU thanks to a family doctor who believed I wasn't trying to kill myself. It didn't take me long to accept the diagnosis. I always believed there was something wrong with me, but I thought I was weak, or just not built for this world. It was kind of a relief to find out that I actually had a medical diagnosis for my moods and emotions. So it took me all of a week or so to accept it.
    Finding the right p-doc and meds, about ten years.

    1. Oh BiB, Thank you so much for heartfelt comment. I love when bloggers feel safe on my blog to open up and let me into their lives. It is interesting that you felt your depression around the same time as me...we were so young weren't we. And I feel you on the struggle to find the right pdoc and the right medication cocktail. Thank you again for reading, listening, and sharing.


What is on your mind?