Misdiagnosed, When Bipolar Truly Isn’t Bipolar

I was misdiagnosed. I was lead to believe that I was dysfunctional for years. At the age of 17, I got mad. I got mad at a crappy life. I got mad at my choices and everyone else’s. I threw a table at my mother, full of stuff. See she had been running around with MY boyfriend. She had been selling drugs to people I knew, and I couldn’t have a “normal” life. She was dysfunctional. Now, I don’t blame her for everything, see in her way she was trying to protect me, to insulate me from something she thought was going on. See how that can make a teenager’s emotions a bit turbulent. Left with nothing but pain and desperation, I turned violent. She had me committed to a mental institution. Good old Holly Hill, for those that know Raleigh. Of course they wanted to please my mother, so that the insurance money continued to pour in. They wanted to have that bed filled and they couldn’t do that if I was just a normal person having normal reactions to absurd circumstances. So they diagnosed me, at the time, with Manic Depression, now called Bipolar Disorder. They medicated me into a stupor, saying that they would work with me until I felt “normal”. Little did I know that this would turn into 13 years of stupor, self-induced hell (because I continued to take the meds), poor decisions, and most of all, a victim. A victim to big pharma, a victim to the people around me, boyfriends, friends, circumstance, and most of all a victim of family. They medicated away my desire to be happy, replaced with a barely breathing existence.
I felt no emotions for 13 years. Do you know what that is like? To be so medically induced into nothingness that you are not even existing? Things and people came and went around me, and I was a non-involved bystander. IN MY OWN LIFE!!!!!! People did things to me (I am not disclosing the extent of the years of torture in this post, maybe at another time) unspeakable things that any other person would have been outraged at. Me? I was indifferent, oh well there is another script to go get. The doctor says that I need it, so I must run and get it and allow myself back into the void. NO! That is no way to live.
I stood up, I said no more. I had nothing left, not even myself to turn to. I reached out to those around me, just to be shoved down and ignored. After all, the person that you step on all their life isn’t the first one that you run to when they are screaming out for help. Better to ignore the “crazy” girl. I was done. I was done with everyone around me and most of all I was done with big pharma. It was hard coming off all those chemicals that twisted my brain into mush. It was hard breaking the cycle of doctor induced drug dependency. But it was worthwhile. I didn’t go crazy, I didn’t die, that is what they always tell you, don’t stop taking this med without your doctor’s advice, well the doctor had led me astray for so long, who was he to now tell me anything? I did not have much to lose anyways, I lived dead for 13 years, what did I care at that point if I did die. It took months or maybe an entire year to work every single med out of my system, out of my brain, out of my heart and out of my life. But I did it.
Now, 5 years after that fateful decision, I live a life I couldn’t even muster up the energy to dream about before. I LIVE! I am happy, I am sad, I am angry, I am depressed, I am elated, I am all those emotions plus ten thousand more that I can’t think of right now. The stuff that “normal” people feel, I now feel. I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!
Big pharma couldn’t do that. I did that. See I think that the proper diagnosis would have been Crappy Life Syndrome coupled with Bad Decisions and parent issues. I didn’t have bipolar at all. I couldn’t medicate away my problems. I had to change my external world before my internal order could be appropriate. I had to let go of the idea that my parents were supposed to be perfect, that some how they should be Gods guiding me through life. They weren’t, God rest their souls, they weren’t. They couldn’t be, they didn’t have it in them. I am not perfect either, I have made HUGE mistakes that still haunt me, decisions that turned disastrous. But that was the past. And the thing about the past is that is where it belongs, in the past. Your past has absolutely no bearing on your future.
This is not a call to disbelieve all psychiatrists and doctors. This is a call to question what you are told. To question what other circumstances you have going on, to question the treatment that they propose to you. You don’t have to follow blindly every order. There are treatments that are outside of that box. This is what drives me every single day to further my education. The ultimate goal being to be that psychologist that says, “Try this herb, this therapy, this alternate treatment” DO NOT FOLLOW BLINDLY! Do your homework, there is no doctor anywhere that lives YOUR life. You do, so take the interest in it that you need to. I wish that I had been told all this, I wish I would have known and not wasted so many years. But I did and I don’t think that I would know now what I do, if I hadn’t been done the path that I have.
Love to all my readers, thanks for putting up with me.

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About lindasue1979

I am studying to be a psychologist in the hopes of becoming a therapist treating PTSD patients as an alternative to pharmaceuticals. I am also a sufferer of PTSD and Generalized Anxiety. But most of all, I am Mom to be amazing nephew. I love life and all things in it. Love to try new products and loveeeeeeeeee to give my opinion, even when not asked!

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