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I would not rank myself under the “mentally interesting” having had many diagnoses or anything. Well perhaps I will soon. My psychiatrist thinks I also have ADHD, and I clearly have an OCD thing going on, but those are another story.

I am writing about what lead up to my diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder I.

I think for a few years prior if not more, I had symptoms of hypomania and depression interchangeably. Looking back in journals, AOL chats, and emails, I clearly see what I did not know existed until the late Fall of 2009.

So what happened in 2009? In October of that year, I started seeing a Psychologist because I began recognizing that I had relationship issues. I did not know how to connect with people and it was bothering me. I had no previous romantic relationship either, only to find out much later, this year, that I was just oblivious to the men who were interested in me. Anyways, looking back at my psychologist’s notes, he initially expected I had a personality disorder. Well that makes sense. I was always in his office discussing my issues with guys, my confusion about my major, and jumping topics to what I found interesting, like Des Cartes. After a few sessions, seeing many of my moods, he started suspecting a mood disorder and advised me to see a psychiatrist. I of course did not at the time.

Only a month later was I forced to see a Psychiatrist.

For two weeks I was a genius on top of the world! I created a theory of time, space, and the structure of the universe based on shapes, numbers, and the human organism structure. It sounds very coherent now, but that’s because I have discussed this before and the idea gets a little more clearer each time. Actually, looking at my notes, I do not understand at the moment. In my psychologist office I would make profound statements, and that’s how I learned about Rene Des Cartes, because my psychologist said I sounded like him.

Outside the office I was even more of a genius. I went to my exams and answer each one in one phrase or diagram that would explain everything. (I was an economics major and it all was too clear and I made it simple). I was walking around my college campus getting energy and nutrients from the sun, and not food. Yea, I really didn’t need food. By the time I was hospitalized, I’d lost about 15-20lbs.  I was also not sleeping. I lost track of all time eventually and what turned out to be a week was actually in my head about 3 days or less.

At home I would shake my head to give myself purple eyes and in the shower I regressed into childhood. Outside my room I dissociated and out of fear started punching walls and breaking dishes in order to feel real, that I existed. Eventually I found I had no sense of time, and I found myself walking around the entire city, to scaring people in a Wendy’s drive thru and restaurant, to abandoning my backpack for freedom. I was on a mission too. I was some kind of time and dimension lord that had to keep the planes aligned. My roommate was a sort of time jumper that gathered the artifacts I needed to keep up with my role in keeping the dimensions together. I also found myself standing at a bus stop for hours waiting for him, thinking that I missed him, while I stared at all the drones who don’t know they’re being controlled.

I started to move again. I started following intuitions and voices told me of all the promises the universe would give me, such as the romance I wanted with my roommate. I managed to cross 4 lanes of streets multiple times without getting hit, and eventually making it back to my apartment, which by then I was extremely paranoid. When I opened the door, I noticed one of the roommates bike was not in the living room and it bothered me. This roommate was at the top of the organization known as Intel that kept track of people and controlled them on many levels. Think of control where people and power fit the shape of a pyramid. Right at the top was this roommate and I thought he was trying to control me. I confronted him about the bike, and he claims to have been scared of me. Though I was leaving his room, he stabbed me in the back and on the side.

Soon enough, the police showed up and cuffed me to a chair. I went batshit! I was scared. My roommate had the police controlled too and they would not believe that I did not attack him. I was the one bleeding too! There were all kinds of lights and another officer showed up… and soon EMTs. I kept trying to get away. They wanted to look at my wound, but at the time I thought they were trying to gang rape me so I screamed that I was a virgin. The entire experience was intense. Someone or two of them pinned me down while another cut my cocktail dress and bra off me to look at the wound. Of course, I did not think that. I was still scared they were going to rape me. I was screaming and crying and convulsing and everything. The bright lights did not help. It also did not help that my roommate’s girlfriend came by to say something or other that I do not remember. (I think she broke up with this roommate because she didn’t want to be involved with such a violent guy, one who’d stab a lady and lie about the cause/reason/interactions).

Anyways, I lost consciousness for a moment, and when I woke, I was being lifted down the stairs on a stretcher by four guys. Then I fell asleep again. And when I awoke, I realized I was cuffed to the stretcher. I tried to slip my hands and feet out, but someone caught me and they held my limbs down, and shot me with something. If I look at the hospital record again, I’ll know what… laying down naked, I tried to flirt with the guy holding my hands by rubbing his gently… It didn’t work. (lol).

After getting stitched up, which I don’t remember, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and stayed their for a week. The psychologist there said he didn’t know what was wrong with me. But after release, I promptly stopped taking the antipsychotics and as promised saw a specialist at my school. The psychiatric nurse, familiar with bipolar disorder diagnosed me with bipolar I disorder, my psychologist did as well, both independent of each other.

I decided to stop taking medications and became agitated and paranoid again. This time the CIA was after me and wanted to lock me up in the state prison. I started seeing signs everywhere that they wanted to as well. I called my mom and she drove with her friend 8 hours to the city I was in to get me. Upon returning, after going to the hospital, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital voluntarily…but I left after two days. I was too scared… and what pissed me off was that my drawings were stolen…

At home, I was so scared I didn’t eat or leave the bed and when my mom left I got even more scared. A few days later I finally showered, and came down a bit. I was still hearing electricity and the intricacies of sounds, including calling of the winds with my violin. Yes, and it so happened to storm when I decided to do this…  I think after the second shower, I came down tremendously and came close to normal. I also took the antipsychotic and antidepressant prescribed to help bring me down.

Eventually I want too far down…

I was advised to just take a sabbatical from school, but I wanted to finish school. I was again in a manic state because I took less of the antipsychotic. I started seeing a psychiatrist and with the prescriptions, I actually started getting more and more depressed and gained about 20lbs in weight. It was horrendous, but that was my episode break through.

Btw, in a year I finished school, with the support of my psychologist, school accommodations, and psychiatric medications, despite the many side effects.

The next post might be about the manic episode I had recently and how I got back into school this past year…

Let me know how bad you want to read it. Haha!

MAI