Recently my life has taken a tragic turn. As I have written about previously, I was engaged for about two years to a man that I very much adored. I wrote about my day-to-day struggle of my emotions flip-flopping more than the average persons. One day I would be head over heals in love with this man, and the next, I would be leaving him because I wasn’t happy. About a month ago was our last and final breakup.
During this breakup, I decided that it was time for me to reach out for help. Michael had told me time and time again that I needed to go to the doctor because he felt like I had bipolar disorder. During my negative episodes, though, I didn’t want to believe him. I honestly thought that he was just trying to make me feel absolutely crazy. I thought that Michael was the bad person in the relationship and that he couldn’t take the responsibility that needed to be taken in order to fix things between us, and that he was just trying to pawn it off onto me. This was the only explanation. I had lived my entire life up until that point with no problem, right? So why in the hell would bipolar disorder be showing up now?
After my appointment with my psychiatrist I learned that I actually did not have bipolar disorder. She explained to me that when someone is bipolar, their episodes don’t just effect the people that they care the most about, but even random strangers. Because my episodes where strictly to Michael and my mother, she explained to me that I have a major anxiety disorder. Basically, because I feel like those people were going to be there for me for the rest of my life, I felt like it was okay to make them feel not important and not really even realize when I was doing it.
Realizing that I’ve lived my life with this problem going untreated has really been difficult for me. It’s raised so many questions. What would have happened if I would have reached out for help before now? Would Michael and I still be together? But then I take a step back and realize something more… I do love Michael. More than words can describe. Seeing him move on with his life, finding another girlfriend not even two months after our breakup, it’s been difficult. Letting go has been nearly impossible for me, however, I have to realize that for the past two years, I’ve made him unhappy. Now, that he’s moved on, he’s found true happiness. No, it’s not with me, and yes that hurts tremendously, but all I can do is smile knowing that he’s happy.
Sometimes life throws curve balls at you. It’s unfair, and they hurt. But laying down and letting them get the best of you while you mope around in your own self pity does absolutely nothing except make the situation worse. All I can do at this point in time is move forward with my therapy and medications that the doctor has given me, and pray that God gives me the strength to move forward. I’ve already came so far in my thinking, so there’s nowhere else to go but up from here.