My Journey to Bipolar: Part 5
For a long time, I debated with myself on whether to follow through with telling my story. I didn’t know where to begin or where to take it. Would anyone read it? How would people view me? Would anyone care? Most of all, would telling my story not only help me, but would it help others? Will my story give a voice to those who are hiding behind the stigma and shame of mental illness? It is my hope that it will.
Having finally found my voice and telling things from my vantage point, it is important for you to understand I am not taking this as an opportunity to place blame on others. Conversely, I want you to see how the signs of mental illness look different in everyone. The signs can be overlooked or even misdiagnosed. If left untreated, one’s life can be full of darkness, despair, sadness, anger, and hopelessness.
It’s cliché to say, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It may be hard to see at times and can look as though it is fading. The tunnel might seem like it is closing in on you to the point of having to get down and crawl on your hands and knees. But the journey is worth it.
Read Part 1 , part 2 , part 3 and Part 4
PART 5
What happened in grad school was a defining moment that would change the trajectory of the years to come for me. However, to say that was the only reason why I left school and moved back to Chicago would not be the entire truth. The overwhelming reason why I wanted to come back was because of Julie. Dating long distance for the majority of our first year together was challenging. It pushed me to work hard at our relationship and made me realize that when something is so important, there is no length you won’t go to in order to keep it. Despite being an hour ahead, we would talk late into the night on the phone, send cards in the mail (sometimes multiple times a month) and I would take the train or rent a car on the weekends to see her even if it was for less than 24 hours.
The time had finally come when I would move back to Chicago. I had no job lined up but that didn’t matter because I was reunited with the person who had become such an important part of my life. I quickly found an apartment and wanting to prove to Julie that I was capable of more, I began working with a temp agency, throwing myself into the world of office work. I had no prior experience working in an office; outside of basic typing skills, I had little to no experience in filing, transferring calls, making copies of reports, mail delivery, or how to dress. I was, and still am, a t-shirt and jeans guy who wears boots and baseball caps. Button ups and polos would become a new addition to my wardrobe.
Despite my complete lack of experience in an office, I was not nervous and never second guessed myself. Julie supported me every step of the way and believed in me, which in turn made me believe in myself. However, to say that it was an easy transition into the world of cubicles or open office settings would be a lie. Big copy machines were intimidating, and the number of buttons reminded me of the Millennium Falcon. I can’t count the number of times I transferred calls to the wrong department or individual or accidentally hung up on someone (needless to say, that is very upsetting to the caller). Despite these bumps in the road, I knew I was gaining experience that would help advance my career and take it in a positive direction. Whatever that career might be.
Not only was work going well, but mine and Julie’s relationship was steadily growing. We finally were able to see each other more than once or twice a month. We enjoyed going on dates to the movies or having dinner at a Thai restaurant (we still do). On weekends we would make brunch (another thing we still do) and go for walks when it was nice out. We were able to explore Chicago more together and loved discovering different neighborhoods and local places that you can’t find anywhere else. Even after living in Chicago for a year before grad school, I had never been to The Bean until I went with Julie.
As time went by, I knew there were times when my behavior and demeanor would be off and was becoming increasingly harder to hide from Julie now that we saw each other more frequently. Julie knew nothing about my mental illness because I was too embarrassed and ashamed to tell her. I was doing so well at all these other aspects of my life that I didn’t want her to be disappointed by this thing that I couldn’t control and would never be able to get rid of. I lost so many people due to my illness and not being able to manage it that I was terrified if she found out, I would lose her to. But the harder I tried to bury the rage, sadness, chaos, confusion, mania, helplessness, and everything else that comes with Bipolar, the harder and more explosive I knew it was going to come out. It was only a matter of time. Julie would be brought into a world I tried so hard to hide.
