I Am Not Bipolar, I Have Bipolar

I want to start by explaining my story title. If you have Diabetes you are not Diabetes, you have Diabetes. Similarly I am not Bipolar, I have Bipolar. My story starts when I was very young, so I have no idea if I was born with Bipolar, or just developed it later. I can remember being very young and feeling as I do today, so who really knows except for the fact that I have Bipolar now. I have always been a little off, but I have also had a lot happen to me. When I was 10 my mom fell off a horse on Thanksgiving day and got extremely bad brain damage. She had to live in a rehabilitation hospital from that point on. She died 6 years later on Christmas day from cervical cancer. About 6 months after her brain damage my real father, whom she was divorced from and lived in another state, died from a brain aneurysm. My stepfather who was her husband at the time of her accident then moved another woman and her kids into our house while my mother lied in the hospital from brain damage. My mothers side of the family then hated my stepdad. My grandma called me every week and my stepdad and his evil girlfriend hated my grandma and treated me like crap. My stepdad's real son was my brother and we acted as such. We were very close. The tension between my grandma and my stepdad grew to the point that they made me decide to live with my grandma (my mothers mom) and never speak to them again (including my brother who I was very close with) or to live with them and never speak to my grandmother again. My stepdad and his evil girlfriend were physically and verbally abusive to me and I was already thinking of running away when this decision came upon me, but how could I leave my brother behind. I, of course, chose my grandma. After I made this decision my stepdad had to go away to the gulf war. While he was away, his evil girlfriend became angry with me and slapped me in the face at least ten times and knocked a cup of water out of my hand. I had never been struck before because when my mom was around she would never allow it. I was only 14 and I completely snapped. I smacked her back about ten times and shoved her across the kitchen and into the dinning room and she fell back on the dinning room table. She ran to her room crying and I went and watched tv smiling. I then moved in with my grandma, and to stay in contact with my brother, I wrote the principal of his school and explained everything and asked if I could send my brother mail at the school. He allowed it and I stayed in contact with my brother.

My grandma was awesome, though my Bipolar was progressively getting worse. After high school I had my first panic attack. Then I dropped out of my first year of college and had a serious breakdown. I walked down the street to my apartment, whom I lived in with 3 female roommates, and was crying crazily and trying to punch out the window of any car that was sitting on the road. I also was beating the crap out of my face. I have always Self Harmed by punching my face, but by the time I got to my apartment my hand was black from bruise. My roommates instantly took me to the ER and I then spent time in a psychiatric hospital where I was diagnosed with Bipolar. Everyday is a struggle for me. Over the years I have also lost both of my testicles to testicular cancer and since I can't have children, I have problems finding a reason to live. I also am completely incapable of having a relationship. I just can't do it no matter how bad I want it. My Self Harm has turned from punching to cutting and I have become quite addicted to it. In fact I think of it all the time. It has taken me over. My moods shift all the time and I am angry, depressed, elated, all the time. It is hard for me to get through a day. I don't know. This is where my Bipolar has led me. This is my story. Thanks for listening. Peace.
ManiacalTom ManiacalTom
31-35, M
Sep 7, 2012