The official diagnosis.


Long neglected blog, I have returned.  I miss my outlet…sharing my struggles and triumphs with total strangers. 

With my return I’ve changed my blogs name, as I have after all these years, have the official diagnosis. Aside from major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety, possible borderline personality disorder….I am also Bipolar type II. 

It took being kicked out of my previous mental health clinic (a long story for another day). Going from private psychologist to the next, and finding a private psychiatrist…I’m finally getting treatment that I should have been getting from the bringing of my breakdown. 

I’d always suspected the possibility of being bipolar and was blown off by my previous clinic. Fun stuff. 

To make things even better, just as I started to see a light at the end of the tunnel, it turned out to be a train to knock me down. The boyfriend of over 2 years walked out in the middle of the night, leaving a note saying he left me, with rent due in a week, two dogs, three cats, and his chinchilla to get on a bus and move Texas to be with a girl he had been cheating on me with online for months. 

Apparently it was hell being with me, and I “fabricate things to get pity from others.”  Such as a lovely photo making fun of people with anxiety that I apparently planted to get pity because he would never do such a thing…or that he was cheating, or that he stole from me. That I made up his violent tendencies that, I have holes in walls and doors that say otherwise. 

He left his rant stating that I’m a pathetic woman in her 40s…apparently I slept for 7 years as last I checked I was 33. Oh and that I’m going nowhere in life. 

I guess the one thing I can be grateful for is that the trash took itself out. 

This all happened while being freshly diagnosed bipolar, major med changes…the thoughts of just giving up and killing myself swam through my brain. 

Here I am, 3+ months later. I still hurt…having yet another guy leave me and blame my mental illness for it. But I’m also learning about myself and how I set myself up for failure in my relationships jumping in without truly knowing who the person is, and I, in the end am the one who gets hurt. 


2 thoughts on “The official diagnosis.

  1. Good on you to start blogging again! We have to hang for dear life to the things that make a difference, and I find writing to be cathartic so I’m glad you’ve made this decision. Strangely, I want to say congrats on your diagnosis, though that sounds quite odd. I don’t personally have a ‘label’ and I sometimes wonder if having one would be good or bad for me. Sometimes I think it makes a difference knowing what the problem is, even if you don’t know how to fix it, but I don’t even think I want to broach that subject with my psychiatrist. I can hardly stand the apathy I feel from him at the best of times, I shudder to think of the lecture he would give me if I dared to ask.


    • I’m just so happy to have a label I can put on my mental health. After having a moron psychiatric nurse practitioner putting me on med after med after med and no success with any of them, it should have been a good indication something wasn’t right. I even brought up mood stabilizers and she told me she wouldn’t put me one then until we got my moods where they should be. Talk about incompetent. Not to mention every visit she told me over and over she didn’t know what to do with me.

      It’s a relief knowing what’s going on. So I can truly get the help I need.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s