Hello again!

It's Mental Health Awareness Month once again, and I am here with an update because a lot has happened since last year.

Last year, I was getting used to the idea and feeling of being up and down and up and down and up and down and... well, you get the picture. I just didn't realize what was and wasn't normal. At the time, I attributed it to losing my father in February as well as my anxiety disorder. I said in my experience that breaking down things to smaller jobs helped, and it still does. What I didn't say was that my motivation level to do even the smallest of jobs was nonexistent, which wasn't at all normal.

It was close to October when I finally admitted to myself  and those close to me that I probably need to see someone to get help. My days by that point had become filled with illogical thoughts, racing through my mind at high speeds and breaking what little concentration I had. I barely managed to get through my workday. I had to leave the Ambassador program, I stopped updating New Adult Reads, and backed out of anything that took concentration. The only thing I did was stream video games and play games that didn't require much thinking.

With all of this, my job was being impacted. I was growing more and more forgetful and failed to retain some important information for my line of work. Eventually, during this period, I was told by two people - my doctor and my boss - that I fit criteria for bipolar disorder. Trusting my boss since she has a long background in mental health, I signed up for therapy. 

I met my therapist and fought with the notion that I have bipolar disorder, because isn't that just a code for unstable? Not that I was the most emotionally reliable person... Anyway, surely it wasn't that. 

Flash forward,  my therapist, who is a sweetheart, tells me that she thinks I should see the doctor on staff to see if I should be on medication. I was apprehensive about it since I've had only bad experiences in the past. Still, I did what she said and saw the doctor. 

She evaluated me and decided that I was definitely bipolar; however, because I hadn't had all the classic symptoms, she had to wait to see as they presented. On top of that, though, she did diagnose me with some other things that I'm working through. 

Anyway, it took a couple of months, but I got my diagnosis of Bipolar and let me tell you, just hearing that I had this disorder was both a relief because now I had a diagnosis that explained a lot of my problems, and a burden because I also had to figure out how to take back control. 

I looked more into bipolar and what I found was what people had been telling me: it doesn't go away. You learn to control it with the help of medications, but that's it. But where did it come from? What now? Was I crazy? 

Looking into my family history didn't give me many answers. No one in my family had it. I felt like I was half crazy already, but I knew that's not what it meant. I researched and researched and the more I looked into it and found out about my disorder, the more I realized that a lot of people have it and manage it well. I have a milder form of it, so I began to become more confident that I could do this. 

The road of mental health meds is a bumpy road, and I'm still not completely there, though I'm much closer now. I don't think I'd be able to cope if I didn't have this helping me. It makes things just a bit more bearable. I'm happier and feel like me again. 

Mental health is important, and not all diagnoses mean you're crazy. They mean that you need to figure out how to live with them. Yes, some are much harder to live with than others, but it can still be done. 

If you share your own mental health story, I'd love to see it. Feel free to tag me, DM me, or drop it in the comments. I love hearing how people have overcome challenges and who knows? Maybe your story will inspire someone like you to get the help they need and write their own success story.