I got diagnosed in 2018. Jesus, can’t believe it’s been a year and a half. I honestly don’t know if I actually have it because I was previously diagnosed with PTSD which this Dr. is ignoring. Now, when I was first diagnosed I went on this huge rampage about everyone being diagnosed with bipolar. When I was in the hospital I met someone from the military with PTSD, a marathon runner, and a sex worker with an eating disorder who all were getting diagnosed that weekend. I was full of a lot of rage.
I got diagnosed for two reasons. One was “excessive anger” and the second was because that is what my mom is diagnosed with. Also, my age I think was a factor. I will say this though, irritability is a PTSD symptom. I asked over and over again for a proper PTSD evaluation and I never received one. The Dr. who diagnosed me with PTSD when I was 18 was very good and I spent 6 weeks with him Monday to Friday in an outpatient program. Needless to say, I feel like he got to know me a lot better than the Dr. who diagnosed me with bipolar.
I admit that when I was diagnosed I really wasn’t acting like myself. I had snapped a little. The beast had taken over. You ever feel so repressed and then you just let it all out? That was me. I was separated and I felt super bullied. Honestly, I have felt bullied my whole life. I went for a walk to calm down and I ended up walking for 24 hours, with the exception of a couple breaks.
I’m on medication still, for the bipolar. I looked it up and it said it could be used to treat PTSD also, so I feel like maybe it doesn’t matter what the Dr. calls it. I know I have some serious repressed rage. Like serious. I know that when I snap everyone thinks I’m a psycho. I know that because I have children I can’t ever let that happen again, not that it ever came out around my children. It’s just that me being able to have my children depends on me being stable and civil towards the other adults. I know that being a mother with a mental illness, whatever it is, means that I need to take extra good care of myself including sleeping and eating on a regular schedule. I am on the defence. People are watching me. No, that is not a paranoia talking. Seriously, people keep fucking asking me about my meds like it is any of their business. I may never be left alone for my entire life. I’m not really okay with that, however, I don’t know what to do about it.