Perhaps this isn't the best place to be writing such things, however the cloak of anonymity this will provide; with some luck, the ability to create something that helps me come to terms with the last few years. This will be a little autobiography followed by some questions I hope others can relate to and perhaps even provide me some guidance on the matter.

I spent my child hood, like most boys, living with my mother. She's diagnosed BP2. The first 19 years of my life were spent moving from one place to another up and down the east coast of the USA. Born in Florida and slowly we made our way up to New York. We moved on average once a year. Two if I was lucky. Of course my educations suffered and I'd go so far as to say I never really went to school. During this time I was consistently in trouble. On bad days I wouldn't even make it in. If I wasn't good and figuring out the strategies of tests (not the material) I wouldn't have graduated. It was in this time I started noticing my "All or nothing" personality. I was clearly emotionally immature but I couldn't see it at the time. I had many friends who genuinely like me, and I liked them. We haven't talked since then and I'd love to reach out but how do you start a conversation with people you pretty much ghosted right after high school. During these years I will have attempted suicide three times. 

After some time I decided to go to college. It was everything I wanted it to be in the fact that I'd never really experienced drugs, sex, &amp; rock and roll. My first semester in college left me with an astounding 0.0 GPA. During my time there I was a god. The life of every party, followed by the inevitable crashes that come with hypomania. It's fair to say I've never truly had any stable self esteem. At least anything that didn't feel fake. I carry that with me even today. 

My employment history during this time was sporadic and I changed jobs often. Things would go well for a while. I would be a model employee but at some point my mania and depression ( I didn't know what it was at the time) would interfere. I'd miss a shift here because I could't get out of bead. I'd say things at work that I'd regret instantly. I still remember each time this has happened and these memory always come back while I'm depressed. In all honesty depression has always seemed to me a very selfish act. I'm spending my time thinking about "poor me", "I'm nothing but trash". The actions I took even while in a hypomania were selfish and were instantly regretted once they were done. There's a true, cold, narcissistic devil in me.

Having failed so completely I decided a massive change in my life was necessary. So I decided to join the Marine Corps. I'll not go into to much detail on this however, in regards to my mental illness the Marine's gave me a brotherhood I'll never find again. My hypomania made me a god. My depressive episodes were simply not allowed. You don't have a choice in many matters while enlisted. I have no true right to complain about my time. Many have given up far more. My time simply exsaserbated my bipolar. Even then, I didn't always treat my brothers well. Ass hole was the general accepted term and I wore it like a badge of honor. During this time I will have attempted to kill myself twice. Fairly easy when you're getting shot at. They were my bothers, and I've not had a real conversation with any of them since I left.

Then comes collage. I attempted to be a bio major but having to gone to high school it was simply too hard. Spending 8hrs a day in libraries plus classes, drudged out on amphetamine. You can track my mani/depressive episodes by my grades. I eventual conceded that I wasn't smart enough to finish getting my education in biology and switched over to pshycology. I was in what I thought was a happy relationship which in time would end and leave me completely broken for far to many years then It should've. I still haven't been in a relationship yet. A few hook ups here and their but nothing anymore and never with the same person. After reading that 90% of all marriages in which one partner has BP ends in divorce; I'm devastated. That was only a few days ago. I tried to kill myself once again when she left. While in college I worked as an EMT at this time. The "on call" nature of the work seemed to work well with my bipolar. If I was hypomanic I could rush into anything. If I was depressed the sound of the bell going off to indicate a call had come in would pull me right out of it with a nice adrenaline high. I don't talk to any of them after leaving as well. Some of them I would say were my friends. But I've embarrassed myself too much. 

After this, I worked in a call center and as a cab driver. Same story. Went hypo, did and said things I should't. Inconsistent. Something no employer looks for in an employee. 

I now find myself working in the field of logistics. It's a great job and I can see myself doing this as my first real career. possibly my only career as people with BP have shorter life expectcies. However as the saying is "old habits die hard". I've grown a lot but I've embarrassed myself countless times. I've missed work when needed. History is simply repeating itself. They are understanding of my situation but eventual I fear they will have enough of this. Has anyone found a way to become consistent? Build bridges instead of burning them? Is there any hope for an actual marriage? I don't seem to be able to keep a relationship in any manor outside my family that last longer than 4 or 5 years at best. I'd try to reach out to old friends but it's been so long,

I'm taking my meds as I should. On bad days when the hallucinations are bad Ill even double up on them. I'm working on cutting down on caffeine, THC, &amp; nicotine. I've only started a week ago and it started off great but today I pulled a full reversal. Two monster energy drinks, two 5hr energy shots, &amp; 2 THC gummy bears. My thinking was it's Saturday and my last week was hell without it. Monday I was a god. I ran this way and that. I did the work of two men and the week slowly took a downfall. The next day I only got a little done. Not eve half of what I completed the day before. The following day the IT dept. made at what will turn out to be an understandable mistake that I absolutely lost my shit over. A grown man having a full on temper tantrum. I was so embarrassed I didn't even make it into work the following day. This upcoming Monday I'll have a few more apologies to hand out. I spent the day apologizing to people for missing appointments and to my mother for not helping her clean the house while I wallowed in my own self pity. 

I was only diagnosed, maybe a year ago. I don't know. Time doesn't seem to flow for me the way it does for others. I've only recently truly accepted the fact that I'm BP. By recently I mean a week ago. I'm beating myself up that the salad I ate and the shower I took didn't fix me. I'm reading a good book on bipolar and perhaps the most significant of them all, I'm talking to my mother about how she lives with this unmedicated. What her life has been like and I can't help see how my life story mirrors hers. 

I need to learn so many things but while I grow, most importantly I need to learn how to make friends and keep them. I'm tired of hurting the people who care about me.

I'm crying no so I think that's enough for this one. 

Any advice will be greatly appreciated. if you happen to see any parallels in this to your life they would. be welcome as well.