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Writer's pictureTasha

Healthy Tasha: Part 12


Hello World!




*********Disclaimer! Self-harm will be talked about************


We're going to jump right in. I have bipolar disorder, there I said it, and you know what there is no shame behind it. At all. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression when I was seventeen years old and then my diagnosis was confirmed later towards my eighteenth birthday. It was scary, again I felt alone, and like the image above shows, I was drowning.


I had struggled with sleeping before but it had increased when I was around fifteen or sixteen. I was would have a bunch of energy that I had no idea what to do with. There would be times when I couldn't get out of bed and it felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest. I felt stuck. There were times when I would speak so fast that no one could understand what I was saying and I was always told to "slow down". I never realized that I talked like I was on a sugar high all, the, time. But I didn't think anything of it. I just chalked it up to being a teenager.


There was one specific moment that I realized I needed help. I was seventeen and I felt like my spirit was floating out my body. I was feeling so overwhelmed with life at home, life at school, and I was in a battle with a mental illness that I couldn't put my finger on it. A close friend of mine had shown me scars of when she had self-harmed and I needed a way to come off of this high, something to ground me. So logically in my head, I thought it would make sense to self-harm. And the pain was grounding, it was like adding weight to a helium balloon. And I am in no way saying that my behavior was okay, I am just explaining my thought process at the time. I immediately regretted what I had done and went to my mom maybe a day or two later and told her what I had done. I will never forget the look on my mom's face when I showed her the cuts on my wrist. It was then that we knew that I needed help.


I went to my fantastic psychiatrist and told her what was going on. Turns out I was experiencing a manic episode. Learning about Mania made me feel heard, seen, and understood. It was like someone was extending a hand to me in order to help me survive. Mania for me feels like you are a six-year-old on a sugar rush. There is so much energy that is pulsing through your veins, and there was no place to store it. It was scary, it felt like I was a superhero getting ready to charge up. And there were times when I felt like a superhero like I was invincible, and that nothing could stop me. In these moments I felt like I was floating which made everything make sense. The fast-talking, the hyperactivity, the self-harm. I was experiencing something that was at the time in control of me. There was a lot of time spent trying to find the right medication. Some medication helped with my depression symptoms and would cause manic episodes. Some medication would help with my manic symptoms and would cause depressive episodes. It was frustrating and there was this yo-yo effect going on. Now, I think I have found the right combination of medications to keep me "stable".


This is all well and dandy but Bipolar Disorder has an ugly side to it too. Mania has been my biggest enemy. Again, these episodes make me feel invincible. I was finally on medications that were working and you know what I did? I said to myself that "I didn't need to take my medication anymore, I am in control of my Bipolar Disorder". So I stopped taking my medication, I stopped going to therapy, I stopped meeting with my psychiatrist as well. I missed appointments, I didn't reschedule appointments at all. So what happens next you ask? I was manic for an entire year, I was manic and I was depressed. There was this rapid ongoing cycle that was scary and out of control. But because I was manic all the time I thought I was fine. So to make a long story short, I blew through over $10,000, had my car repossessed, dropped out of school, ended up owing my school money because I dropped out, I accumulated over $3,500 of debt. All within a year. It wasn't until the repossession of my car that I realized that things had gotten out of control. I was scared, and I didn't ask for help because "I didn't need it". After I confessed what happened to my mom, I realized that I needed help, a lot of it. The first step was getting back on my medication, so I made an appointment with my psychiatrist and had to do an intake appointment because I hadn't seen her in over a year. So I pretty much started from scratch. I also had to do an intake appointment with my therapist. Honestly, I am so blessed, I am blessed that they had openings for a new patient and I was able to see them.


Am I scared that this will happen again? Yes. But that is why I have a tribe. This is why I have a support system in place full for professionals who have my best interest at heart, along with family and friends who want to do the same. Hopefully, my story was helpful. I used to feel shame and embarrassment over what happened and I realized that my story needed to be heard and that there was someone out in the world who needs me. That's my goal in life, to help one person, just one person, and have a positive impression on them. I just want to change someone's life and hopefully, I can do that. So that's it. That's my story, I will keep you all updated on my progress through life. For those of you wondering or asking. Yes, I am okay. I am taking my medications, I am in therapy, and I see my psychiatrist every four to six weeks. I am doing okay, and I am so excited to be in the place and positive headspace that I am in. Like I said before I am blessed, and I can only thank God and my tribe for that.


Another day as an adult (with Bipolar Disorder)........damn,


Tasha

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alcinays
May 20, 2020

Happy glad God made me part of your tribe❤️

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