Climbing

I’ve had many low points in life, even lower ones once I was diagnosed and prescribed medication to treat my bipolar. Yes the word is treat, even manage NOT cure. There is no cure for mental illnesses just treatment options to manage the disorder. This was and I must admit still is the toughest part to accept.

As human beings we all want to try and fix the problems we have in our lives, but you see for me having the bipolar gene doesn’t mean I have a problem, rather something extra to love and appreciate. Now don’t get me wrong I can say the above, today May 5, 2016 but seven or so years ago I was pissed at the world, I felt as though I was let down and wanted to quit. The first thing that irritated me was that upon my diagnosis in the hospital I had to wait a month before I could see an outside psychiatrist to begin treatment. Now mind you I was in a manic state and was wrecking havoc in every aspect of my life. I was unable to focus or perform certain tasks so school and work became nonexistent to me. My behavior was reckless, I didn’t care, or rather I didn’t care to care. I maxed out my credit cards in the one month prior to seeing my first psychiatrist, I gave out my personal belongings, and had the godly aspect where I thought I was holier than though. Wow, just typing those words brings pain to my heart, I hurt a lot of people back then. This just goes to show that our actions define the people we become, sometimes for the worst,  other times for the better. I am sorry about my behaviour then, I felt no control in my life with my emotions, all that I did feel was disconnected.

Sometimes I have noticed now that it was tough, for a reason, but I also realized I had to go through that and more to get better…one must hit rock bottom before climbing up the hole of despair to the gravel of hope to the surface of acceptance. Exhausted…

Until next time, G.Merced with sugar

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