I’m living proof. Fifteen years ago I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 Disorder. I did some crazy stuff before being diagnosed (and some after). Although there is no cure, there are plenty of treatment options. I am not a professional. I am someone who lives every day with the disease. My goal is to reach out and help someone in need by reading these very words on my blog. I was suicidal on several occasions and thank God I am still here. In my family history I have 5 suicides by gunshots to the head. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. At the time, I was being treated for depression for eleven years. I was misdiagnosed and prescribed the wrong medication. I was out of control in every aspect of my life. I hurt people I love including myself. But having Bipolar is not a death sentence.
I sought help in therapy and with the care of my psychiatrist and prescribed medication I have remained stable for months at a time. That’s a goal for me. In life things happen that I have zero control of but I do have the choice of whether I want to live or die. I choose life. I always want to choose life. Treatment is crucial in trying to maintain a somewhat normal and productive life. I was able to work up until nine years ago. The last job I had was a secretary. I had been off work sick for about two weeks with killer virus that was going around. I called to talk to my boss and she proceeded to tell me about the work I failed to complete before I got sick. I started to explain to her where I was at on the project. She interupted me and said “you know when your here it’s like you’re not here. Well that was enough for me. I guess my work was slipping and so I made the descision to quit my job. I loved working. I hated being home all the time and put on eight-five pounds in two years. Besides the Bipolar, I also have an eating disorder, social anxiety, body dysmorphia and possibly other undiagnosed illnesses. My doctor wants me to be checked for dementia. I am in my 50’s and since my mother had Alzheimers my doctor want to play it safe. I was supposed to do that almost three years ago. I’m scared and I’m in denial. I know my memory is failing; I’m just not ready for another diagnosis.