I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder just over a year ago. I say it that way because I often question whether I actually have the disorder or not. Until the day I was diagnosed, I thought that I was just moody, and what the hell is wrong with that? I mean...seriously? Doesn't every one (having failed their biology final) freak out and throw their sandals across the Rose Garden... go pick them up, throw them again in some kind of twisted fetch/golf game? All the while, your boyfriend is running after you saying "what is going on?" Oh, they don't? Ok, what about getting bored and alphabetizing whatever you can in the house. Music discs, DVD's, Spices. Can't alphabetize the books. That would upset the husband. (but since the cook books are mine...Mwahaha!) How about the time I got a roll of paper towels, a bottle of ammonia, and a nylon scrub brush and spent four hours on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor one square at a time. How else was I going to get the grease and dirt out of the stupid little pox marks in the linoleum? DUH! To this day, I still don't see anything wrong with the alphabetizing and scrubbing of the floor. Sure, the floor thing started at 10 at night. But DAMN that floor was CLEAN! Of course the husband didn't notice when he got back from his business trip. Which peeved me. When he left on that trip, he kissed my cheek as he took his bags from the trunk of the car, and then just walked off. No.."I'll miss you" nothing. It was the first time he was going on a trip, and he was flying from one coast to the other. He was gone for three days, two nights. When I went to pick him up from the air port, I dressed up. Summer dress, wedge sandals, make-up. He just greeted me with a 'hi' and a peck on the cheek...again with the cheek. Between the lack of passion when leaving or coming home, and his lack of acknowledgment of the sparkly clean kitchen... I went from energized and happy and productive, into fatigued, irritable and lazy. I always got the absolute needed done. Wake up, get the kids ready and off to school. Usually get dinner made... but that was it. Laundry? Bathroom? Nope. Couldn't muster it.(more on the husband later)
So, when I was diagnosed, I didn't believe it. Until I looked back on my life. My manias are called hypo-mania. A lesser than Patty Duke Astin manic episode. This makes the diagnosis "bipolar 2" Mania is less dramatic, and wider spread. But the depression is worse, longer. What I have yet to figure out, is where the "normal" comes in. Is there a normal? If I am happy, am I sick? If I am depressed am I ok? What is normal? Have I ever experienced it? Has ANYONE?
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