I was seventeen years old when I was struck with the mental illness, an early age to be diagnosed I think. I've mentioned before that bipolar disorder runs in your genes, and can rear it's ugly head at anytime. Well it hit me in high school during the "best days of my life" as some call high school. At the time I was a junior and I was working, attending school, and just starting to talk to a certain girl. You could say I was doing things and being proactive. My best friend at the time started a prayer group that year, and he wanted me to give a speech about a topic of my choosing. I started working on the speech late at night, because I worked late some nights in a restaurant. I worked on it for several nights and I wanted it to be perfect. I don't recall how many nights I worked on it or how much sleep I was getting from night to night. One night I got home about eleven, and was going to call my friend to tell him the speech wouldn't be ready in time. However, I couldn't get ahold of him and stayed up all night and all morning working on it. I got an hour's sleep that night and got up to go to school. I was so tired and sleep deprived. I put shaving cream on my face and reached not for my razor, but for my toothbrush. I knew something was clearly wrong, but went to school anyway to give the speech. The speech came and went like it was nothing, and probably it wasn't as big of a deal as I made it out to be. I wish I wouldn't have stressed out about it as much as I did, but I always put too much pressure on myself. I ended up being sent home from work to get some rest when they heard about my day. However, sleep was already out of the question. My brain chemistry was already changing, and my bipolar genes were starting to surface. I had several other people tell me to get some rest, but it didn't happen. Later in the week i started to hallucinate and started to think my mother was the devil, and trying to kill me. I started moving my stuff out of the house and into my neighbor's. After several intense and nerve racking arguments with my mother, who I thought was possessed by Satan, I called 911. I didn't call them for my safety, but for my younger brother's safety. I was delusional and hallucinating and not to mention scared shitless. The cops came to take me, not my mom. I said I would never return...
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AuthorI was diagnosed bipolar 1 in March of 2005. It's been a challenge to say the least to live with this disorder everyday. There has been some major ups as well as downs. It's just something I have to deal with. Everyone has their own problems and struggles to sort out and this is just one of mine. I'm not asking for anybody to feel sorry for me. I just want to educate those who don't know much about it, and if it helps out somebody along the way even better. Archives
May 2017
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