Hi. My name is Adrienne, and I'm bipolar.
This is the part where I'm supposed to make some joke about how I change my mind all the time, but the joke's not here.
Because I really am bipolar.
Before you get all google happy, I'm bipolar II. That matters. The diagnosis is new, only 3 weeks old. I've been frustrated lately because I don't feel like I'm getting any support for what I'm going through-then I realized the truth: nobody knows what I'm going through.
Bipolar II means I have all the lows of being bipolar without having the unbelievable highs. My lows are devastatingly low, and the highs (in my case) mean that I'm irritable and agitated. I spend most of my days walking around completely numb, not feeling anything for anyone or anything. When feelings do materialize, all that's left is excruciating emotional pain and crippling anxiety. They say the medicine is going to help. So far it doesn't. So far nothing really does.
So when I say I'm fine, it just means I don't currently want to curl up and die. When I say, "We're surviving," it means "at least we made it through the morning/night/afternoon."
My name is Adrienne. I'm bipolar. And I feel like my life is eating me alive.
And that's the truth. Finally.