I am at peace with being bipolar. I think it makes my life much more interesting. I have so many colorful stories about spontaneously moving across the country (US) and starting a new life (10 jobs in 8 different cities in 5 years, uncountable new people and adventures, new hobbies) over and over and over. It’s been wildly exciting, exhausting, beautiful, and heartbreaking. However….

I can’t join the Coast Guard. They won’t let me in. I really believe I would be a great fit. I can’t be a commercial pilot, and I really want to fly. I didn’t know what I was getting into when my therapist told me I had to admit myself to the hospital in 2017. I was in college. She told me my professors would take care of my coursework and not to worry, all would be well. 

I agreed deliriously because I was so tired from working so hard. 5 classes and nearly a full-time job and a raging party habit that I refused to kill. I never slept. I didn’t know that going to the psych ward would be a grave mistake. 

The first nurse I talked to told me I was a fool, no smart person would ever act like me. (I am quite smart actually, sometimes I think unfortunately.) She berated me for not knowing how much money I spent on drugs and alcohol. “How do you not know?! It’s your money!” To this day I still wonder why she was so mad at me - I really hope she lost that job, because she was capable of doing some serious damage to people. 

Miserable days were spent in there. I talked to the psychiatrist on maybe my second day. After answering one of his questions in a bit of a rant, I concluded by stating that “my therapist thinks I might be bipolar.” In response, he burst out laughing! Then he apologized for being insensitive, but “you’re definitely bipolar.” So, 5 days and who knows how much trauma later, I was slapped with a diagnosis and discharged. 

My grades didn’t recover because my professors really didn’t care where I went, why wasn’t I in class when I knew I was supposed to be? I guess it doesn’t matter because I never used my bachelor’s degree. I graduated with honors, attended my ceremony on 0 hours of sleep and tripping on acid from the EDM show the night before. 

I’m a borderline hobo now, bouncing around to different temporary jobs. The address on my driver’s license is from probably 9 residences ago. I never stay long enough to be established. 

I have pulled myself out of multiple addictions, but still struggle with substance abuse. I often wonder if I’ll ever be happy again, but I also love my life so much. I am the life of the party and I never stop dancing when there is music playing. Then I go home and sometimes cry a bit, then wake up and perform at 120%.

By the way, I am 24. I do often feel overwhelmed by the thought of living 50 more years. Part of me hopes to be taken out by an act of God. But I love my friends so much. They would hurt if I was gone. 

Tl;dr: damn, I wish I could join the Coast Guard. 

Thank you for reading. I really appreciate it!