On Thursday, the 14th I felt depressed for no apparent reason... and was rather impulsive - something I rarely am. I almost committed suicide. Even stared the car down before having a fleeting thought that maybe someone can help me, and stepping away in the nick of time.
I was put in a psychiatric emergency facility, which is designed to 'stabilize' people who are prone to suicide. They put me on mood stabilizers and had placed me on anti-depressants as well as one medication for countering mania. However, these medications are slow and will take some time before the effects are really noticeable.
After nearly a week of observation, going to groups, socializing... etc... I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
Before anyone says they hand that label out like candy... I spent my time requesting all the information I could find on the disorder - both the physical causes, environmental factors, and cognitive problems associated with it.
True, psychology or psychiatry is not an exact science... but this disorder describes the experiences I've had the closest, particularly the cycles of feeling energized and 'happy' without any reason or in excess of what would seem appropriate and then shifting to depressive thoughts and fixations about death which also were in excess to life's current circumstances. It also described the times I was energized, irritable, and depressed at the same time.
So, for the time being, I've been prescribed fluoxetine, zolpidem, trazodone, and risperidone. For those who are a little more familiar with medications... yes zolpidem is Ambien, it has helped tremendously in enabling me to sleep and thus reducing the occurrences of a manic episode -- something that was demonstrated while I was under observation.
I'm not exactly sure how to feel about all of this. It's somewhat unsettling to be diagnosed with a mental illness... when you want to believe there is nothing wrong with you. Yet this seems to put all the pieces of my life together. I can't remember a time when I wasn't like this... enthusiastic to take on the world for a few days or weeks and then horribly depressed for days or weeks.
My dad had been informed of all that has happened, and didn't contest what the therapist said. Rather he agreed... and seemed somehow relieved at having an 'answer' to a problem he could never solve for me when I was younger. This seems to provide even more justification for the diagnosis.
My boyfriend had been concerned, but he too seemed to support what the therapist had said. However, he has been very supportive. For that, I am thankful.
I'll probably take some time off the computer and focus more on learning how to minimize the severity of the cycles... and everything else that goes along with it -- like adhering to a schedule, keeping a journal of moods... etc. Also, I will have to remain in contact with the clinic as well as other forms of aid that have been provided for me -- work, school and so on, and remain in contact with the friends I made who also have bipolar (kind of a support group I suppose).
I would like to thank everyone here, for it was helpful to have an outlet.
