I grew up mostly in Alexandria, Minn., but moved to Ada in the 6th grade. When I was young I was a very emotional child. I was put into a special class, even thought I knew I wasn’t dumb. Just everyone else thought I was.
I don’t remember much about those days except for one day and that was the day the counselor (who was not a psychologist or psychiatrist) said I was bipolar. My mom did not believe him and neither did I. I was normal but no one believed me. I still remained in those classes till I was in 9th grade, being teased and taunted and called retarded. After a while I just learned to accept that maybe I was retarded, which i dont get. I took an IQ test, a real one where you are one on one with a certified trained psychologist and I was told by him that I was normal — but everyone kept treating me like a retard.
Well, that’s all in the past. Let’s zoom up to high school. I started cutting to cope with all the bullying. Not to mention I was sexually assaulted when i was 15. I started noticing my moods a little more and how they bounce up and down. Never thought I was bipolar. When I was 17 i started therapy. I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and depression. Give me a pill and a little talk once every two weeks and I thought I was cured.
The pill i got was Paxil and everything got worse. They gave me Paxil CR and still worse. Mood swings so bad I was in the principal’s office at least once a week, whether for spray-painting the dumpster, smoking on school premises, drinking, or just plain cutting class. Wasn’t I putting my brain to good use?!
Now this went on till I was 18. I was then prescribed Prozac. Now I started noticing the moods a little more. Started thinking about what was wrong. I’m a smart person, I should know what’s going on. Well, the cutting got worse and my English teacher saw my arms. I started going to her for help. She talked to me when I was going through depression and put up with me when I was manic. Then I did a report on self-injury for her and my psychology teacher got hold of it. So now he knows. He told the school psychologist, whom I trust, and I told her I’m getting help and I don’t need the school to get involved. She understood.
Then I was done with school. I went to graduation drugged up on Vicodin, took my diploma and went out into the world. I moved back to Alexandria and started therapy there. Then the diagnosis came up — bipolar I. The school was right. Now that I’m out of school I didn’t care. I can get the help I need and move on.
I developed an eating disorder over the summer. Bulimia nervosa. My psychiatrist prescribed me Lamictal. I developed an allergic reaction within a week on it. Then I was put on Trileptal, which helped a lot. I lost my insurance so then I went off Trileptal and my Prozac. Withdrawals and all. I was put on Abilify and then after a month of use I was taken off for gaining weight. Then I was put on lithium, which I am on today.
So far the cutting has decreased to once a week. My purging decreased from every day, twice a day, to once a day, once a week. Everything is going great now. I got a job that I love, a brand new cat that annoys the hell out of me, and a boyfriend who loves me for who I am and knows all about me. Also a therapist shaking his head at me for the dumb stuff I pull each week (drinking).
This is my story. Now excuse me, I’ve got to write some more in my book of life.
Story, P. (2006). Being Teased and Taunted. Psych Central. Retrieved on October 1, 2014, from http://psychcentral.com/lib/being-teased-and-taunted/000218
Last reviewed: By John M. Grohol, Psy.D. on 30 Jan 2013
Published on PsychCentral.com. All rights reserved.