Bipolar

For 22 years of my life, I have always thought I'm a little different from the rest. I look carefree from the outside but inside, my thoughts would drift wherever it wanted without needing my permission to do so.

One moment I smiled, felt happy, and the next I turned sour, bitter, and not happy.

I had my first taste of relationships when I was 15. It was a traumatic one. I had to live in utter anxiety for my partner was the one that would do bad things behind you—worst part was it was a long distance relationship (LDR) with goals that felt one-sided. Even though I knew my partner had another, I gave up on the selfish decision to break up by brushing the thought as a temporary solution for that loneliness built up.

Ending that relationship was the toughest choice I've ever made. It was a six year relationship after all. It wasn't easy; it was tough.

I tried getting into another one. The new one was good, was great, but it lacked fireworks. It only had perks. I tried ending it but attachment grew and it got the better of me. I had times when making decision was a sickening chore for me to do. I couldn't make any. I didn't know how to.

At work, I was happy most of the time but mood swings were getting far more obvious.

One moment I was laughing. The next I turned depressed, silent, thinking of the worst possible things happening to me, to my life. Out of nowhere, my thoughts were convincing me,that life with this enjoyment is nothing but depressingly momentary and not sustainable. I felt hopeless.

My relationship—I was happy with it and wanted to kill it off. I felt I didn't deserve such feelings as happiness, contentment, etc.

A person stepped into my life and made feel like I wanted to make bad decisions again, with a similar personality and characteristics of my former lover. I was on the verge of falling into the same trap again where love will reside to one-side in the end and would drain everything from me. Worst, there were no more principles left for me to hold onto and just the one my heart focuses on is most importance. That person manipulated me, manipulated to everyone of what kind of a person I was. I'm bad, that person said. But what is their intention to say those words about me? I did no harm at all, but I was harmed instead.

I almost broke my partner's heart with tearful words of which I felt nothing when saying them. Cruel words, even how simple they were.

"I want us to stop. I don't need you anymore."

That was what my lips murmured but my insides cried, for it wasn't what I meant.

I couldn't breathe, decisions stomping on me.

I drank most of the nights with a bottle of wine, all drowned by me.

I became an alcoholic and cried, emotionally torn.

My partner, that I almost broke apart with, stuck through, advising me to see a specialist.

I went.

And got diagnosed of Bipolar 2 Disorder.

At that moment, I questioned.

All these years, who was the actual me?