It’s my present that gets me worked up. I was diagnosed bipolar 9 years ago this month, and my life has never been the same sense.
It started with a nervous breakdown. I was driving a hazardous road across the island. In many places the speed limit is 35 mph. Well, I was doing 60, and my mind was racing even faster. I could hold only one thought, I have to kill myself. Somehow, I managed to find a place to stop and turned around. I got myself off the mountain by some miracle and drove straight to the hospital.
Since that day, everything has changed. I am no longer able to work. I have some difficulty with memory. I have spent months in depression. I have been on the verge of suicide twice and hospitalized twice. I’ve had visual and auditory hallucinations.
The most recent auditory hallucination was just last night. Driving home from the theater, I clearly heard the voice of a dead friend bemoaning the fact that there’d been no Shakespeare in the program. I had a conversation briefly. When I got home, my head was racing with thoughts and show tunes.
My head is not my own, and that really gets me worked up.
Before you ask: yes, I took my meds. This just gives me one more thing to talk to my doctors about.