Bipolar- A relief

I was diagnosed with Bipolar II, BPD and PTSD on March 17^th, 2014. Oh, like I did not know that. Like I did not know that there was something wrong with me. There were a bunch of things always going wrong with my attitude. Ranging sudden over-reaction to a simple argument to try to run away from my family, my attitude had made me the bad guy.

I tried all in my power to not be that way. I started therapy in 2011. My therapist was one of the amazing people I have ever known. She really helped me through this awful path of life. I was doing so well until Post Partum. Long story short, I was diagnosed with Bipolar type II 11 months PP. Oh what a relief!

Right, it was a relief. It was like someone has taken a big mountain off my chest. I started reading about bipolar a few weeks before I was diagnosed and I was kind of hoping that may be there it was-the answer. Bipolar for me has not been a curse. It has been that kind gentle blessing that answered all the questions I had about me.

I am not suggesting in any way the bipolar is a good thing. I know that for sure it is not. I live with it every day of my life. Ever since I was a little kid I had these moody occasions every now and then. I would make friends and leave them just like that. I would get angry at a little thing. I would have exponential reactions to a simple case of disagreeing with someone.

I was that rude bitch who did not like anyone. I wanted everything my way. It was always like “its my way or no way.” If it was not in accordance with what I really wanted it would be like “you are going to regret this.” This all was pretty easy to achieve since I was daddy’s little princess. Within a day my moods would swing from happy to sad.

My dad always stated that I could do whatever I wanted to only if I “tried harder.” I was trying harder. I was exceptional at whatever I did. Until of course, I hit the rock bottom, which I hit pretty much every now and then. My dad was always of the opinion that I lack the zeal and the enthusiasm to see things to the end. I had no way to explain when and how what went wrong with the awesome plan I had.

I had a high self esteem. I felt confident, so much confident that I did not need anyone’s opinion on anything. And, then the self esteem would hit a real low. From having delusion of grandeur to becoming the ugly duckling, it was all that was in my life. Life was up and down and up and down.

The diagnosis was a relief. I am so happy to be on treatment and taking the medication. It finally answers a million questions about me, my personality and my short comings. I am finally able to “focus.” I can channel my energy and my brain power in a better way.

Except for the hypomania, I do not have these grand ideas about me. I take small, very small steps at a time. Even in hypomania I try my best to take a back seat. I am much aware of all my states and I know exactly what to do and when to do.

At least now the reactions are not that exponential every time. Now I don’t think I am an ugly duckling. I also don’t think I am some queen of Sheba. I think I am a normal human being with a purpose. I am not over confident, I am not under confident. I am just confident.

You are with me, every breath I take. You made it hard for me to live now I will make it harder for you to live. Dear bipolar, you are the worst thing that happened to me and you are the best thing that happened to me. Thanks for being there, now I am going to fight you and win. How can you be all good and bad at the same time? Well you know better, you are Bipolar!

Dwelling in the Past/Bipolar Has Me or I have Bipolar?

Life seems to be getting better. My husband is happy with it and says that he is finally feeling relaxed. I kept the poor man hanging for a year now. The “postpartum bipolar year”. Yesterday while looking at my sons pics from last year I realized how much of the cooing and little baby things I missed. I did video captured all of those moments but I don’t in particular remember any of them, Thank God I have them on video. I just remembering too much pain from the last year. I feel like a guilty mother who was unstable and did not have the ability to love her new-born. I remember how I hated the poor little angel. I feel so sorry for him.

I feel like saying this, although, it sounds so cruel; I made a mistake for him. I had no idea it would go that bad for the new-born, While I am dwelling in the past, I forget to see the present. I forget to see a one year old beautiful boy growing day by day. This is what is the present and the truth. However, I am completely unable to come out of it. I know it is useless to stay in past, but I want to. It is painful and it was hard and I can not change it. I just wished I had gone to a psychiatrist sooner.

I highly doubts an OB/GYN’s ability to refer you to a doctor. I hope she would have. I started treatment 7 months PP. The treatment was wrong. The diagnosis was wrong. It was never uni-polar. I got my correct diagnosis 11 months PP. Oh, how I wish I was sane enough to go to a doctor in time. Poor baby.

Yesterday, I asked my lil one as a joke what is he getting me for mother’s day? Why should he really. After all what did I do so good to deserve a gift. I was unable to breast feed him, I used to scream when I couldn’t figure out why my sick baby was crying. I was thinking I made a mistake having him.

Yah, I tried. I tried to connect and connected fine at the end but it will never bring back what was supposed to be a nice mommy son time. I missed my baby ! Did I do this? Did bipolar do this? How to you really separate. How do you separate yourself. Do I have bipolar or does bipolar have me? I started saying I have bipolar after reading this post by Dyane.

Now, I sometimes still get confused about the terms. Oh I need a whole other post to write about how terrible wife I was/am. I almost ruined the guy. The least I could do is the effort. Effort to stick to the treatment, Oh past, will you please leave me. Past is the reason I am in this place, yet, I sometimes still dwell there…