I am 25 years old, I have been “Bipolar” for 30 days now however, I have been the ‘unpredictable’ one for over 13 years.

 

When I thought about sending this memoir I wasn’t sure if it would be best to start with the “end” (also known as the present) or the beginning (also known as puberty).  In the end I decided that I would start off with the 3rd act, as I so lovingly refer to it.

 

It was February 17th 2003, I was sitting in my bedroom in Baltimore MD debating on whether or not I wanted to go and Reshovel my car out of its parking space in front of my apartment.  It was 2 days after the biggest snow storm since 1996 to hit the eastern seaboard and while I spent 7 hours the day before trying to locate my car underneath 8 feet of snow, the snow plows had blocked it in again.  So I put on my sneakers and walked outside to see what I was in for, I decided that if I just moved the car a little I could probably get it out without having to shovel.  I hit the alarm, climbed in slid the key into the ignition and NOTHING.  It seemed that the enormous amount of snow that had been on the hood for 2 days drained the battery.  Now logically that would not have been a crisis, you get some jumper cables and put some juice back into the darn thing and go about your day right?  No, that isn’t how things worked in my brain, it immediately turned into the crisis of 2003, and I had NO IDEA how I was going to get out of it.

 

Pretty quickly though Mrs. Logic took back over and I made myself walk into the apartment and call someone, but I stopped to get the mail on the way in.  Bills were never a good thing, and today mixed in with all those mean ole bills was a notice from the District Court of Maryland informing me that I had NOT paid my rent.  Now logic was still there and I told myself that I paid the rent and I would call them tomorrow and straighten it all out, then walked into my apartment.  Now I had fully intended to call a friend to give me a jump, but by this time logic was being overthrown by irrationality, and instead I decided to see exactly how much my bills were. 

 

Ok here’s the condensed version, after I saw how much I owed in bills, and my car not starting and getting a notice that I hadn’t paid the rent logic was a thing of the past and I had made up my mind.  I scoped out my medicine cabinet found 80 or so pills that would do the trick; poured a glass of tea and went to my bedroom.  While I was on the phone convincing my best friend that I was ok, I was swallowing these pills (took me 2 gulps flat). Of course that amount of pills takes about 2 and a half minutes to take effect and soon I couldn’t hold the phone up and was slurring, I told my friend I would call her back in 20 minutes and hung up and passed out.  She got concerned when I didn’t call her back, came to my apt and found me and called 911. I was taken to the ER where I was “Certified” by the state of Maryland to a mental hospital where I spent 6 days.

 

Now the funny thing is that I had taken pills like this many times before, the first time when I was 12.  See even that young I knew something was wrong with me I was NEVER happy and to read my journals from that time period you would not argue with me.  But we were a military family and I am sure that a lot of the depression was written off to our frequent moves and new countries.  I went through incredible suicidal lows until I was about 17, and then I discovered drugs and alcohol. From then until I was 20 that’s ALL I did, get high, get drunk and party. I know now that this was apparently a very long manic episode, it all fits; decreased need for sleep increased energy, feelings of invincibility etc etc.  When I look back it seems that as I got older I added more elements to my mania, they also got longer; in fact at times they were so long people just got “used” to them.  I added men into the picture – LOTS OF MEN - added more drugs harder drugs and started spending money I had put away for bills. Of course I just KNEW that money would be there when I needed it, so I had no worries.  My mania was never violent then it was always just FUN, tiring for those around me but FUN, we would party drink get high whatever we wanted to do. It was during these times that I was the most sexy, the funniest the classiest the coolest person around. That was what I saw anyway.

 

By the time I was 24 I had been with over 70 men, done enough drugs to finance an entire Cuban cartel, drank enough liquor to make up for all those in Utah that don’t drink; spent a night in jail after I went postal on an ex boyfriend of mine, got involved with and married a man who 2 weeks later went to prison on King Pin charges; had 2 miscarriages.  Attempted suicide 2 more times, paid over 3K in speeding tickets (thanks to that recklessness that comes with mania) gotten thrown out of 3 night clubs for fighting, and the list goes on.

 

At 25, now; I was hospitalized, subsequently diagnosed and deemed unsafe to myself by an ENTIRE state.  As you can see I try and find some humor in this, it’s still so foreign to me that I have to!  Right now I am on Lithium, Wellbutrin, and Risperidol but it’s still very early and I am not able to see a difference yet.

 

I would like to say that I wrote this in hopes that someone somewhere can learn from my experience but that just isn’t the case, I wrote this to see my life or a version of it on paper so that maybe I can get a better grip on what’s going on.  Regardless I hope that this was informative and possibly humorous to whomever decided to read it.

 

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