I am 43 and I struggle with Bipolar Disorder
In 2016 I lost myself. I quit an antidepressant I was on for 23 years- since I lost my father. I thought it was time for a psychological re-evaluation. Soon after that I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t work and lost my job. I was scared to be alone. I couldn’t drive. All I did was cry. I had a panic attack every day. I began cutting. I thought about suicide every day. And then my mom died suddenly. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and began a long journey of adjusting meds. I began using drugs. I ran through money. I gained 60 lbs. I let all my bills go. And it kept getting worse. I ran out of money and still was too scared to work. I had the shakes and fell asleep all the time, yet couldn’t sleep at night. I thought about suicide every day. I had no family left- just my boyfriend. Now, it’s a year and a half later. I’m still healing. I have the same boyfriend and my dream job. I am a mental health nurse. My semicolon tattoo is a constant reminder that I said I could and I did.
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