One day things were fine, the next day I was crazy. The thoughts racing through my head at a hundred miles an hour. Depressing thoughts that would not seem to leave me alone. This was not me. I grew up in a good family, I’m in a band, I’ve got a fantastic girlfriend. Why am I suddenly depressed all day and having these suicidal tendancies? I decided to run away from all of it. I packed my bag with a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a bible and hit the road. I didn’t have a destination. I didn’t even have a clear thought in my head about my friends, or family, or what was going to happen to me. Thoughts were foggy and dark. One minute I was thinking about jumping in front of a train, the next minute I would laugh at myself for having such a thought.
After the next few days on the road, I woke up one morning completely thrown off by my surroundings. I was cold, hungry, alone in the street. My mind felt like jelly and I decided it was time to connect with someone. I showed up at my friend’s house and explained to him that I had found God. His face told me that he thought I was joking. But the more I said, the more concerned he got, and the next thing I knew my mom was there to pick me up. After many frantic hugs and shoulder shakes, I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with bipolar disorder.
Living Bipolar is no joke. I’m on a ton of medications that make me feel fuzzy and tired even though my thoughts have mellowed out for the most part and I sort of feel like me again. I’m still in a band, but my fellow members are always concerned about how I’m feeling or whether or not I’m going to disappear again. My family members aren’t quite sure how to deal with bipolar living either. The pills are costing them money, and they keep searching for miracle cure. If I forget to take my medication, I begin to go back to some bizzarre corners in my mind and people around me get a little scared because I become unpredictable. I’ve started going to church pretty frequently because I want to ask God for a cure. I wish bipolar living didn’t entail a bunch of pills that take me out of myself. But then again I’m not myself when I don’t take the medication either. It’s tough!
I just have to get through it one day at a time. My family and I have dinner together every evening and talk about normal family things. Like how our day was. How school was. How is the band doing? Do we have a new set list yet or any gigs coming up? But in the back of my mind there is a constant voice telling me that everyone is judging me for being bipolar. I think they’re scared of me. They think I could snap at any moment. And the sad thing is that I could.
Adjusting to living with bipolar disorder is a hard thing to do after leading a semi-normal life for eighteen years. But like Father Brannigan tells me, “Living bipolar is Gods way of teaching me to overcome weakness.” So I try to be understanding and compassionate. I work real hard every day to overcome my sour feelings of not fitting in. My music is getting better and my drive is getting stronger. With the help of my friends and family, this bipolar living will ultimately fuel me on the path to a meaningful existence.
