The first time

Today, I got a new therapist. It was awkward at first because she thought I was a new intake but soon realized I was established so she wanted me to tell her about myself while she read over my file.

“What started all this?” she asked

Well, nothing. In fact, I thought everything was perfect. I had the job I wanted, the boyfriend I wanted, the apartment I wanted, the car I wanted. I could go on and on.  I loved my life. Everything was just right.

Then, I came home one Friday evening after work and I laid down for a nap. The next thing my eyes snapped open and I was shaking in rage. Literally, shaking in my bed. I wanted to kill someone. Not just anybody. A specific somebody. I planned it all in my head.  For the remainder of the night, I sent wild text and emails to two of my friends (one a ex-Marine and one a cop).  I knew they would stop me.  In fact, I prayed they would just come over and put a bullet in my head.  I didn’t see the feelings I had ever stopping.  Finally, one of them called the police.  By then I was already running around my apartment complex, rolling around in the grass, pounding my fists in the ground and screaming at the top of my lungs.  Another universe was running through my mind.  Something Apocalyptic. The world was ending. I didn’t care. Somewhere, my brother was screaming at me.  Telling me to hold on. To keep it together. That he was coming. He would run from one side of the world to the other but he would get to me.  I finally heard the sirens in the background. I knew they were coming for me.  I couldn’t open my eyes.  I couldn’t respond. I heard people asking me if I was ok, who I was.  And, I could only whisper my name, who my brother was and that he was coming to get me.

When I woke up in the hospital, I was strapped down to the table. I thought, “what have I done? Have I ruined my life?”

The doctor was wonderful. Assured me everything was ok. That he could tell I was a beautiful person. He told me I came in talking so fast it was like I was singing the alphabet and the Star Spangled Banner at the same time.

That’s how it all began. That was Fucking Fort Myers.

I asked this therapist if anybody ever un-bipolared. Sadly no. It was always there. It will always be there.

Today, for the first time, I realized how serious my condition is. Before I saw most of the people around me run in fear and I was standing there without a clue. Now, I kind of get it. It is a big deal.  Under the right conditions, I can turn psychotic.  I have turned psychotic.  I’ve very urgently wanted to kill a person.  If the person had been anywhere near me, I would have made it happen.  I might go off into another universe.  I might start screaming about something that I see that isn’t there. Today, for the first time, I finally got how truly scary that is.  Why it hasn’t hit me before, I don’t know.

But, I did find some closure today. I let go of all those people that let me down. I understand now why they were scared.

3 thoughts on “The first time”

  1. I’m proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. Naturally, I don’t always “get it”, but I’m always here for you to listen or to talk! You ARE an awesome person pal, and I love you to pieces!

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