by Dawn Peter

Created on: February 16, 2007   Last Updated: August 05, 2008

Sufferers of this malignant problem will tell you it is in no way fun or a fad. It is very hard to live with this plague. Only last year I was finally diagnosed with being bipolar type two. This means that my mania isn't the crazy mania you often associate with being manic-depressive. My mania presents itself as a sense of normalcy, a phase when I feel I can relate to the world at large.

Before the wonders of proper medication my mania moments were few and far between so you can imagine that I lived in a world overcome by the blackness of depression and suicidal thoughts. I have a son and until last November he was my reason for not going through with my suicidal tendencies but I'd had enough at that point. I wanted the pain to just stop! Instead of actually going through with it, I realized I needed help and sought it at the college health center. I went there twice, actually...once on Friday and after what seemed to be a great weekend (my mania, I know now) I crashed on Tuesday. I ended up crying for nearly eight hours and it resulted in me being admitted to a psychiatric unit for four days.

All I knew was I wanted to stop feeling like I had lost my mind. At first I felt I made the wrong decision to be admitted into the hospital but by the time I was released I realized that I had finally begun on the road to managing my disease. I hesitate to call it recovery for the simple fact that I'm not sure I'll ever fully recover in the sense of a cure...though I wouldn't be opposed to it. I hate having this problem but I'm starting to understand it much better now.

Where does this lead me now? I have my darker days than others but through therapy and medication as well as a good support system my lighter days have overtaken the dark. I still live in dread that I will lose my footing in the sane realm and slide back into the blackness. I think this is the major source of my anxiety aside from the troubles that plague life in general. I have to admit that I'm coping MUCH better than I once did. Being able to cope is a gift some people don't realize the importance of. Sleeping through the hard times isn't the best way to manage stress....I realize this now as well.

I isolate when I have my down times. I find that I don't want to be around the people I love most and as a result feel bad about myself and lonely. This serves to feed the depressive side of the disease. I'm happy that I recognize this behavior because it means I can attempt to break out of the cycle

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