Almost ten years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I took the meds for a little more than a year but I stopped taking them because they changed them up after my dad killed himself. It was not the right combination and I hallucinated. But now I am ready to try again because I don’t want to be sad anymore. And it has been ten years of medicine testing and advancements in technology.
I am such a positive person that most days I can force myself to be happy but some days this darkness attacks my heart. I don’t want to take the road my dad did, I want to fight.
I don’t feel weak for getting help, I feel strong for not giving up. I held down a job for ten years and that is something to be proud of for a bipolar person. This is a sensitive subject for me, I have tried to hide it and never speak of it.This blog post was not easy to write. I have denied it to my core for years but you can’t run forever.
It is time to get help. I assume I will be taking 12 pills a day and having crazy side affects but I know it will be worth it and I know my dad would be proud of me.